Giving in to Temptation: Fools in Love
by GrandeVanillaSkimLatte
Summary: Hermione's relationship with Fred and George becomes more than just a tumble between the sheets. Sixth in the series. FredHermioneGeorge.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:**_ Giving in to Tempation: Fools in Love_

**Pairing:**_ Hermione Granger / Fred & George Weasley_

**Rating:**_ M_

**Warnings:**_ EWE – Fred lives, Threesome (MFM), Affair, Minor Angst, Smut – Lemons & Limes_

**Disclaimer:**_ These characters belong to J.K. Rowling and rights-holders, one of whom I am not._

**Summary:**_ Hermione's relationship with Fred and George becomes more than just a tumble between the sheets. _

**Author's notes:**_ If you have clicked on this then I am assuming you have read the previous 6 one-shots that have led up to this chapter fic – if so, good on you – if not, that's okay, because I'm sure you will pick up on what is happening pretty quickly. _

_You may have also noticed that so far this hasn't been updated in quite some time, well that changes around chapter 10, where I took a six month hiatus from updating FF to finish off my works in progress, and most importantly to clean up what I have already posted. This is essentially version 2.0 _(which I haven't completed editing, but will adjust this AN when I do)_, so if you are reading this for the first time, or if you are reading it again because it has been so long since I have updated, then welcome, enjoy and please leave a review._

_Special thanks to those who have helped beta read over the long course of this fic - WeasleyForMe & Jack of the North and the always-positive encouragement from the ladies of The Twin Exchange._

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**Giving in to Temptation: Fools in Love**

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Chapter 1

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Hermione exited the Three Broomsticks, her spirits high as the sun warmed her back and her senses were assaulted by the sounds and smells of the community preparing for a new day. She had decided to walk to work today and still found herself chuckling at the bizarre looks and pained groans she received from Harry and Ron earlier when she had cheerily announced her plans over breakfast and stupidly asked if they wished to join her.

Glancing at her watch she realised she was running an hour early, the unfamiliar walk not taking half as long as she had expected. Glancing around she saw that several of the smaller cafés were beginning to set up large umbrellas over tables and wandered over to the closest one to order a large take away coffee. The young barista smiled flirtatiously at her as he brewed her coffee, and she found herself thinking that he would be a very good looking guy if only he had red hair.

Shaking herself from that thought, she accepted the cardboard cup and blushed when he winked at her as she turned to leave. Glancing at her watch again she figured she may as well get a start on some overdue paperwork that had been piling up on her desk; it was a tedious task but someone had to do it.

Walking along the cobblestone road she passed all the familiar shops selling wands and cauldrons and overpriced potions ingredients until she came by her favourite one of all.

Fred and George's joke shop was painted in the brightest shade of purple she had ever seen; it was tempting sometimes to shield her eyes, as the window frames and door were done in a similar pain inducing shade of yellow.

She stopped short when she saw a tall red haired man in shocking magenta robes setting up banners and large bins of discount items out front. She knew for a fact that the store didn't open for another hour but there was always a lot of setting up to do before that.

"George!" she called, waving as she walked quickly toward him. He straightened from the large bin of pink and purple pigmy puffs that hummed in delight when the morning sun hit them. He smiled and waved back, pulling her into a hug when she was close enough.

"Happy April Fools' Day oh Wondrous Master," he grinned, glancing up and down the street before stealing a kiss. She pulled back with a sigh; kissing was much more pleasurable than paperwork.

"Happy Birthday," she replied, tugging on his hand to draw him inside in search of his twin, she was sure she had seen a flash of red from outside but she must have been mistaken.

"You know, that dress would look great on the floor next to my bed," he commented, admiring the way the way the grey pinafore stopped just shy of her knees and hugged every curve along the way.

"I'm sure it would", she teased back with a wink. She wasn't surprised that he had noticed the dress, even if it was only to give it a backward compliment.

Looking down at herself, she admired the little puffy white sleeves of the shirt she wore underneath which were cute without being too cute. She just wished she had changed her shoes before entering Diagon Alley. The white sneakers were nowhere near as flattering as the black heels she planned to wear once she got to the office.

"Where's Fred?" she asked when she couldn't find his red head poking out anywhere in the store, she had been so certain she had seen him downstairs somewhere.

"Your other less dutiful slave is upstairs with the flu," George responded, nudging her toward the stairs that led to their two bedroom apartment. She was painfully aware that he spent the trip upstairs staring at her arse, but for once she didn't mind so much.

She entered the upstairs apartment which was flooded with morning light and surprisingly tidy; she wondered if Mrs. Weasley had already been in that morning to clean, because she usually left it until afternoon.

She spotted Fred curled up on the couch under a thick red and gold blanket, a box of tissues on the floor beside him. He let out a pitiful groan before a series of sneezes escaped him in quick succession.

"Oh Fred," she cried, rushing to his side and sitting precariously at his hip.

"Hey 'Mione," he greeted sadly, his voice sounding rather nasally. He feebly attempted to lift his head but she pushed him back down. She looked up at George, concerned, but he just shrugged and went about making tea in the kitchen.

Fred gave a rather loud sneeze before blowing his nose and flopping back on the couch. Hermione sat stroking the hair from his slightly sweaty forehead, and he seemed content to lie back and let her tend to him. She was watching George putter around the kitchen when Fred shifted slightly nudging her hip in the process. She looked down at him and he crooked his finger indicating he wanted her to come closer.

She frowned and leant in a little, but he continued to motion her closer. Their noses were almost touching when he finally said, "I knew if I fingered you long enough you would cum." Then he tapped his wand to his head and all of his symptoms seemed to disappear.

"You weren't sick at all," she cried, pushing away from his chest with a huff. Laughing Fred pushed back the blanket and pulled her into his arms.

"Happy April Fools' Day, love," he said before kissing her. Despite her irritation she did kiss him back, and it wasn't until George cleared his throat above them that they pulled apart.

"Happy Birthday," Hermione whispered against his lips.

"Your other slave would like some attention too," George complained with a pout. Hermione laughed and pulled him by the shirt down to her level. His kiss was teasing, his tongue darting around her lips but refusing to enter her mouth. She gave a frustrated groan, and he quickly gave her what she wanted.

"Oh so Wondrous Master, will you give us poor lowly slaves a birthday shag before you go to work?" Fred asked, batting his eyelashes at her and sticking out his bottom lip. She looked down at her watch and found she still had half an hour.

"I don't know guys, I really don't want to be late," she told them.

"You know you want to," George sang persuasively, sitting down beside her, his fingers playing with the hem of her dress. She looked between the two and back down at her watch again, trying to gauge just how long exactly a birthday shag would take, before finally admitting she wanted it just as much as they did.

"Ok," she agreed, but before the two syllables were out of her mouth George had her dress halfway off and Fred was having an epic battle with her stockings. She took pity on the both by flicking her wand at the restrictive clothing, taking care of theirs at the same time.

"What now oh Wondrous Master?" Fred asked, pulling her back against his chest, running his fingertips along the undersides of her breasts making her shiver.

"Can you stop calling me that," she muttered, sinking further back into his touch.

"Certainly oh Wondrous Master," George said with a smirk, shifting to kiss his way up her jaw.

"Whatever you say oh Wondrous Master," Fred agreed, giving her nipples a sharp tweak making her buck against his brother who was now steadily making his way toward her mouth. When his lips met hers again she gave a moan of delight, loving the feel of two hearts beating against her, loving the feeling of being completely surrounded by warmth.

After a few minutes of heavy snogging and not-so-innocent groping, George shifted his body weight to allow for Fred's arms to snake more firmly around her and they lifted her from the couch as one. Hermione had no choice but to hold on and let them carry her to George's bedroom.

They fell sideways onto the bed, two sets of hands wreaking havoc on her body as she squirmed between them. Fred's made tracks down her spine before he gently cupped her arse. He slipped his fingers between her legs not quite touching her but close enough that her body began to respond.

She spread her legs further, allowing George's thigh to slip between her own as his mouth continued to take full possession of hers; his hands gently molded her breasts, shaping and caressing them, slowly sending her into a frenzy. She moved her hands down two naked torsos finding matching erections within her grasp. George gave a groan against her mouth while Fred hissed with pleasure in her ear; she couldn't decide which sound was sexier.

She was beginning to feel the first wave of release washing over her when all movement stopped, and the three of them lay panting as both men rolled away; she was about to ask what was going on when Fred pulled her to his chest and she realized they were switching positions. This was not the first time she wondered how they managed to communicate without words – it was downright creepy.

Fred's leg took the place of George's and she rubbed up against him like a cat in heat as he began his languid exploration of her mouth. George in turn spread her legs further and tested her heat with his finger tips before replacing them with something much bigger.

He pushed into her gently at first as if he might hurt her, but she began to squirm backward trying to make his go faster. Fred's arousal bucked against her thigh in response and he let out a shuddering breath in anticipation.

George pushed his way in and stayed motionless after that. Hermione didn't know what to make of it until she felt his hand on her hips guiding her to her knees. She briefly lost contact with Fred's lips but soon found herself straddling him with George on his knees behind her; this position made it much easier to maneuver between the two.

George began his slow possession of her body, and her hand matched his thrusts as Fred bucked into her. By now she knew exactly what each of them needed for a quick release and she gladly gave it. She felt lips across her back and bruising fingers on her hips as well as another set of fingers leaving her constantly aroused with their exploration, and she knew she wouldn't be able to take much more.

Just as that first thought crossed her mind, she felt Fred tense up beneath her as he spilled his seed into her hand, kissing her with brutal force to keep from shouting out. The sight of him was enough to send her over the edge and as the fluttering of her inner walls grew to outright contractions, she cried out with her own release, the milking sensation causing George to tumble head first into orgasm as well.

He collapsed against her back in turn causing her to fall against Fred as their limbs became jelly like, and the wash of release left them all languid. Fred gently pushed them to his side and cuddled into her much like George was doing to her back. They didn't often hold each other like this but since there was no threat of Ron walking in on them, they had a new found freedom. That was until Hermione remembered the time.

Untangling her watch from her hair and freeing her wrist, she glanced down at it as she jumped from the bed, scrambling around for her wand and realizing she left it by the couch.

"Come back to bed," Fred mumbled, barely raising his head from the pillow to smile enticingly at her.

"I have to get to work," she argued feebly, taking the two steps back to the bed to kiss first Fred then George, who appeared to have fallen asleep.

"You're no fun anymore," Fred complained. "So what would you have us do today then oh Wondrous Master?" he asked, accepting her kiss before flopping back to his spread eagle position and waiting for her instructions.

"Hmm," she said tapping her bottom lip thoughtfully and admiring the two naked men. "I order you to take the day of work and spend it in your birthday suits."

"But …" he tried to argue but she just skipped out of the bedroom ignoring his protests. She located her wand between the couch cushions and returned her clothes to her body before apparating to work; she knew she was going to be late.

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_Thanks for reading! Please review!_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

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Hermione picked her way through the crowds of Diagon Alley heading toward the towering ministry building at the end of the day. She was careful not to glance over at the familiar purple and yellow building on her way knowing that if she stopped there now she would be late for the second time that day.

Her boss had yelled at her for the better part of an hour when she had stepped through the front foyer over half an hour late that morning. The young wizard she was supposed to have seen about his depressed house elf had already stormed out in a huff. The secretary who manned the front desk, and who happened to live for gossip, had sat listening avidly to the whole thing, 'tsking' at every opportunity.

She was almost certain that if she was late to this next event, she would get a similar greeting if not worse. Mrs Weasley did not appreciate when one of her dinners was ruined, especially when the guests of honour failed to turn up. Hermione was certain that if she stopped now at the twins' joke shop, she would be the one to get the blame for makingthem late as well.

She gave out a long sigh after she passed the point where they would have had a clear view of her and made her way to the Ministry doors, waiting in line to floo to the Burrow where the rest of her extended family would be waiting.

She failed to notice the two red haired men watching her from the second story window. They were both still dressed in next to nothing, Fred having wrapped a blanket around his nakedness and George in a pair of blue briefs.

"Looks like she's chosen to ignore us Fred," said George turning to look at his brother, a mischievous glint to his eyes.

"On our birthday no less," said Fred, matching George's look as a slow grin spread across his features.

"We will have to teach our Wondrous Master that it's not very nice to neglect such dutiful slaves as us." They both nodded in agreement at this before moving off the window sill to get ready for an evening of good food and even better entertainment.

Hermione arrived in the familiar kitchen to the sounds and smells of just about every dish she had ever seen Mrs Weasley bake. She brushed the floo powder off herself and was almost immediately engulfed by a welcoming hug.

Looking up at the owner of the strong set of arms she found Charlie Weasley grinning down at her. She had completely forgotten that Molly had guilt tripped him into coming home from Romania for the twins' birthday dinner.

"How is my favourite sister-in-law?" he asked, kissing her on the cheek before letting her go.

"Fine," she answered turning as red as his hair. He always had this effect on her, well most women actually – Charlie was just so _manly_, and it made it hard to forget the crush she had had on him during her fourth year at Hogwarts.

She was saved from having to stammer through a conversation with the handsome man when another set of arms snaked around her from behind. She knew almost immediately that this was Ron staking his claim on her as he did when he felt any sort of threat, even if the competition was his own brother.

She leant back into him and smiled as Charlie winked at her and went off to terrorize his sister who was trying to convince their mother that the roast lamb was finished.

"I missed you today," Ron whispered in her ear, tightening his arms a fraction and nuzzling her neck. She was a little bit surprised at his affectionate response to her. Normally she was lucky to get a peck on the cheek; perhaps it was the presence of his family that was causing him to act so loving.

She didn't get a chance to respond because in the next few minutes, Fred and George apparated directly onto the kitchen table, and Mrs Weasley was trying to hug them and hit them with a frying pan all at the same time. She felt rather than heard Ron's laughter behind her, and she couldn't help but join in the merriment.

By the time everyone was seated, they were all in fine spirits. Hermione observed the way every Weasley male acted as if they hadn't eaten in days, piling the food onto their plates before practically inhaling it.

She picked at her chicken and vegetable pie, aware that Fred and George were sending her glances every few seconds but choosing to ignore them.

"So Hermione dear, have you and Ron set a date yet?" Molly Weasley asked kindly from the head of the long table. Hermione choked down a piece of pastry, and Ginny passed her a glass of water to wash it down.

"Not yet," she squeaked, hiding her bright red face behind the glass. Her little display of dining finesse had earned her the attention of the whole table.

"Oh that will never do; how are we supposed to plan a wedding when we have no date?" Molly pursed her lips and put down her knife and fork. Hermione received what was known at the Burrow as 'the look'.

"I think you would make a lovely June bride," Ginny said, trying to divert her mothers' attention. Hermione tried to hide the terror she was experiencing; June was just so … _so soon_.

"Yes she would," agreed Mrs Weasley, "We could hold the ceremony in the garden."

"And set up the marquee again. Oh wouldn't a sunrise ceremony just be so romantic," Ginny sighed and Hermione had to suppress the urge to kick her friend under the table.

"Oh and cherubs blowing bubbles," Luna added dreamily. Hermione wasn't sure why the girl was there, but she supposed someone must have invited her.

"Sounds um …" Hermione started to say 'interesting' but was cut off by George who had abandoned his food to watch her.

"Real romantic," he said, rolling his R's and winking at her.

"So June sixteenth it is," Mrs Weasley announced happily, picking her cutlery back up and resuming the meal as if the most important date of Hermione's life hadn't just been set without her consent.

Hermione didn't know why but she was feeling the distinct urge to run screaming from the room. It was too soon, way too soon. She had wanted a long engagement, after all there was no rush just to get a piece of paper. Mrs Weasley obviously had other ideas.

Standing abruptly from the table she excused herself and practically flew upstairs to the bathroom. Once inside she locked the door and leant back against it, breathing heavily.

She felt out of control, panicky. The decision that should have been hers all along was just ripped away from her. But then again if they had left her to make up her mind for much longer, would she really have set a date at all? Probably not this year.

But now that it was set for June, everything she had been refusing to acknowledge was suddenly screaming up at her. After the wedding everyone would expect them to start a family, and a family meant she would have to leave her job for a while, and soon enough they would have to get a bigger house, and children meant much _more_ frequent visits from Mrs Weasley and much _less_ frequent visits from Fred and George.

She refused to accept that the reason for her reluctance was because of them – they were just a bit of fun, a way to work out her frustrations. They gave her something that Ron couldn't, but once they were married things would change … she was almost certain of it.

She jumped up from where she had managed to slump onto the floor when the sounds of apparition echoed off the tiled walls. Fred landed in the bathtub and George sat perched on top of the vanity. For once they had left their mischievous grins downstairs.

"Are you ok?" Fred asked, stepping out of the bath to lean against the counter.

"I'm fine," she quickly lied, turning her face so she didn't have to look them in the eye. "You really shouldn't be in here. What will everyone think?" she muttered.

"It's ok, mum wanted Ron to come up but we beat him to it," George said gently, hopping off the bench and approaching her. He turned her face toward him and kissed her gently.

"If it's too soon, tell them," he said, hitting the nail right on the head.

"It really doesn't make a difference whether it is in three months or three years, we are going to get married eventually," she sighed, pulling back. She didn't want to mention that she would love to spend the next three years kissing them but it would be wrong.

Ron was her long term plan, settling down with his brothers was out of the question. After all it was Ron who loved her for so much more than sex; they had been together for years she wasn't going to leave him because she had a more than healthy libido. That wouldn't be fair to any of them.

"We had better get down there before they notice we have been missing for ages," she said quietly, reluctantly stepping out of George's arms and reaching for the doorknob that was behind her.

"You don't want to _get down _first? It might make you feel better," Fred grinned, shifting his hands to his pockets and making his arousal more evident. Hermione had the good grace to blush as she tried not to laugh – some days they were incorrigible.

She didn't even bother to answer as she opened the bathroom door and walked out leaving them behind. She was still smiling when she walked into the kitchen again, just as Mrs Weasley was serving pie. She sat down next to Ron, and he rubbed his hand along her thigh, just about the only thing he did to acknowledge her presence again.

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_A/N - Once again much love goes out to WeasleyForMe for her awesome fixer-upperer skills! As you have just read this was sort of a transition chapter as I start to really jump into the plot, just because it is that I do ask that you not just pass by that little review button. I would love your feedback, what do you think, what do you want me to change - any suggestions on what you want to see happen. I am a good listener, so tell me! Oh and Thank you all so much on the amazing response for the first chapter - you truly made my week!  
_

_Please Review!_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N - Once again thanks to my amazing beta WeasleyForMe!_

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Chapter 3

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Hermione woke with a groan, her brain pounding a steady tattoo against her skull in a song she liked to call 'attack of the alcohol'. It was her own fault really; she shouldn't have had so much to drink. It was no use regretting it now. What was done was done, and even if she still possessed a time turner she wouldn't have done things differently.

The Twins party had gotten out of hand once they broke out the firewhisky. In the slightly frazzled state she had worked herself into and with the very little amount she had ended up eating, the drinks had crept up on her quicker than she would have thought possible.

Ron had helped her floo back in the morning, his state not much better than hers, and they had passed out fully clothed on the bed, sprawled across each other. Harry had already been asleep on the couch at the Burrow, and they hadn't had the heart to move him, or the balance either for that matter.

Hermione cracked open one crusty eye lid, trying not to let the glare of the small alarm clock get to her. It was a few long seconds before she realised just what those little numbers were telling her. She was late – again.

She sat bolt upright, looking around the room to find it empty. "Dammit Ron!" she cursed, clutching her pounding head as she stumbled for the bathroom. Why on earth hadn't he woken her up?

She located her only bottle of sober up potion way in the back of the ridiculously noisy bathroom cabinet, and swallowed it all in one hit, sighing in relief when its effects overcame her almost immediately.

She took the worlds' quickest shower and threw on her dress from the day before, smoothing the wrinkles with a quick spell and rushed to the fireplace while shoving a pen into her unruly hair to keep it off her face. She threw some powder into the flames, grabbed her stack of case files from the coffee table and stepped through to the Ministry.

She practically ran to her office, dodging witches and wizards who were out for a leisurely mid-morning stroll. She made it to the tall red-brick building in record time and nearly flew into the front foyer only to encounter the smug looking secretary, her almost purple faced boss and most surprisingly, Pansy Parkinson.

"Pansy! What are you doing here?" Hermione gasped, staring at the girl who had mocked her all through her schooling. She openly gaped at her, more than a little shocked to see that the reed thin girl had filled out to the point of being plump; not even her stylishly cut robes could cover her less than svelte figure.

"That's _Miss Parkinson_, and she had an appointment with you half an hour ago," Phillip Bitstock the wizarding worlds biggest arsehole and Hermione's boss gritted out, a quick glance at the bastard revealed that he was just about ready to burst a blood vessel.

"Oh, uh right, sorry _Miss_ Parkinson. Right this way," Hermione corrected, feeling anything but sorry. Pansy watched the exchanged with a bored expression but thankfully followed Hermione into her office. As soon as the door closed, she heaved a sigh.

"Right, what do you want?" Hermione asked bluntly, walking around her desk and sitting down none too gracefully.

Pansy snorted and sat down opposite her, dumping her huge handbag on the desk. "I see our manners haven't improved since Hogwarts," she sneered, folding her hands in her lap and crossing her feet at the ankles, looking like an elegant lady.

"I see your holier-than-thou attitude remains the same as well," Hermione retorted, slipping her heels off and sinking her toes into the carpet.

"Enough with the pleasantries, Granger. I was told you were the only one who could help me legally," Pansy snarled, leaning forward and unclipping her bag.

"Help you?" Hermione asked, watching the odd women before her.

"Yes, my family has had enough trouble with the law lately; after all my poor Drakie-poo is still in Azkaban for crimes he had absolutely nothing to do with, and we don't need something as simple as a House-elf ruining our chances of reducing his sentence," Pansy explained.

"Uh, so how am I supposed to help?" Hermione asked, still not understanding what the vile woman was doing in her office; let alone what she could do to help out her poor _Drakie-poo_.

"I want you to get rid of it," Pansy said, pointing to her handbag and muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like _'Damn randy __House-elves__.__'_

Hermione leant forward to look in the bag, now unbelievably curious to see what would make Pansy Parkinson lower her standards to ask for a Gryffindor's help. At first she didn't understand what the piles of rags were, but then the slight shifting beneath them revealed all.

"I'm sorry Pansy, but I can't help you with this," Hermione stated firmly, sitting back in her chair, staring at the tide of emotions that rushed across the Slytherins face.

"What do you mean? You can't or you won't?" she finally demanded, settling on fury.

"Both really, I will not _get rid _of this. Its poor mother is probably frantic," Hermione replied, refusing to give in to her own feelings of anger. How dare Pansy Parkinson take it upon herself to take an infant house elf from its mother?

"Its poor mother, as you so charmingly put it, is dead. I went looking for the other lazy creatures in my house the other day and found them all fawning over this _thing_," she cried pointing one perfect nail at the bag.

"This child was born for a reason," Hermione pointed out, reaching into the bag and pulling the tiny bundle into her arms, and it instantly stopped its restless movements and settled down into a deeper sleep.

"It was born because its stupid mother was a whore!" Hermione almost laughed at Pansy's indignation. Could the pureblood witch really be so ignorant about House-elf reproduction?

"Pansy, even you should know that a House-elf will only fall pregnant when its mistress does. It carries its child for the first trimester and experiences all the same things its mistress will so it can better understand and cater to the change in its owner's body and needs. Its child goes on to serve its mistresses child and so the cycle goes on," Hermione explained as if speaking to a simpleton.

"You lying bitch, you just want to saddle me with the bastard as some sick revenge for all the times I made fun of you at school!" Pansy cried, her eyes wide as she jumped from her chair.

"I wish I was lying. According to law I cannot relocate this House-elf because it's needed where it is," Hermione said more gently, suddenly understanding the situation. With Draco in prison, Pansy had felt free to fool around. This would definitely signal the end to her relationship with the richest pureblood in England and the end of her reputation; single mothers were still unfortunately looked down upon in the Wizarding world.

"How dare you! How dare you accuse me of being unfaithful! Who the hell do you think you are?" The raven haired witch looked like she was about to explode before she burst into tears and ran from the office leaving a very stunned Hermione holding a very asleep house elf behind.

"Well, that was interesting," Hermione muttered to herself before settling behind her desk.

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It was just going on lunchtime and Hermione's headache had returned full force, but this time it was not alcohol induced. "If only" she answered her thoughts out loud.

Glancing back at the nest she had made behind her chair showed the infant still had its face screwed up and was still screaming its lungs out. Obviously at this age a House-elf could not cope with the separation from its 'owner', who in this case was Pansy's unborn child.

Thinking of Pansy made her head give yet another powerful throb; her day couldn't possibly get any worse. She almost hit herself as that thought crossed her mind because a glance at her frosted glass door revealed none other than her boss walking toward her.

"_Damn_," she hissed, hastily stacking papers and trying desperately to silence the House-elf, not even thinking to use her wand in her flustered state.

"Granger!" Phillip boomed, stepping into her tiny office and looking angrier than he had earlier if that were possible.

"Mr Bitstock," she replied, standing from her desk, accidentally knocking her recently straightened paperwork to the floor along with her cold cup of coffee; cursing, she dropped to her knees and began to re-stack the damp papers.

"You have one hour to do something about this racket," he practically growled before storming out her office, leaving her to clean up the mess. She was so miserable at that point that she felt tears sting the back of her eyes.

Looking up at the ceiling and taking a deep breath, she warded off the tears that threatened to spill and managed to compose herself enough to stand. Using her wand to fashion a sling she gently placed the baby inside. Upon contact it instantly quieted; Hermione almost screamed.

Looking around at the mess she decided it could all wait and quickly slipped out of her office. On the way passed the reception she stopped short, seeing the overly made up witch sitting behind her desk filing her nails.

"Bernice?" She said sharply, changing her direction and startling the witch.

"Yes?" Bernice asked, plastering a false smile on her face.

"Is there any reason Miss Parkinson wasn't pencilled into my planner? I had no idea she had an appointment," Hermione asked, mimicking her fake smile. If Bernice thought she hadn't noticed her slip she had another thing coming.

"Um … I forgot?" Bernice asked, returning to her nails. The backstabbing bitch had probably known all along that Hermione's old classmate had made an appointment; it wasn't the first time she had screwed her over. Bernice had been after her job since Hermione had started and was trying her hardest to get rid of her.

"Sure you did," Hermione muttered softly before turning and exiting the building. She squinted as she stepped into the midday sun before setting off to the closest place she could think of to take her tiny ward on such short notice.

Fred and George saw her walking toward the shop and came out to greet her, surprised that she had taken her lunch break to visit them.

"Hermione," Fred greeted going to hug her when he noticed the bulky sling and stopping short.

"What's that?" George asked, approaching her and peeking into the folds of the fabric. He took a surprised step back when he discovered the sleeping House-elf against her breast.

"Surprise, it's a girl!" She joked, pushing them toward the shop, noticing some of the odd looks they were receiving standing there on the street.

"Where did you get it?" Fred asked, taking a peek at the small gnarled creature with ears as long as its body.

"From Pansy Parkinson, would you believe it?" Hermione responded, slipping the sling off and handing it to Fred who cradled the baby almost awkwardly. She didn't say any more about the case and they didn't ask; right now, if she started talking about it she wasn't sure if she would burst into hysterical laughter or pathetic tears.

"Have you had lunch?" George asked sensing her hesitation; he moved to flip the closed sign and began tugging her toward the stairs.

"No not yet," she replied, blushing as she realised just how dishevelled she must appear. Neither of the twins had pointed out her un-brushed hair and soiled clothing, but she knew they were observant enough to notice that something was wrong.

She allowed herself to be lead upstairs and was deposited on the couch as Fred headed to his bedroom, she could see him as he placed the infant gently on his bed before returning to her side. She sat staring blankly ahead for a moment before the sniffles started. Sniffles turned to hitched breath and that turned into a hiccup as gut wrenching sobs bent her over double.

George pulled her into his arms as Fred rested his head against her back. Slowly caressing her sides in comfort, they let her cry it out.

"I-I'm sorry," she hiccupped, trying to calm herself down 'I'm just so tired and it's been such a terrible morning and …" she couldn't finish, dissolving into hot tears again, ruining the front of George's magenta robes.

"Shhh its ok," Fred whispered in her ear, shifting her so she leant back against his chest. She took in huge gasps of air, telling herself she was over-reacting and this was just a result of a stressful day. Finally she was able to breath almost normally and only let out a sniffle now and then.

"You ok?" George asked, leaning his forehead against hers, his eyebrows knitted together in concern. She gave a nod before leaning forward enough to take his lips with hers; needing what comfort he could give her.

He didn't deny her, just responded with gentle movements, tasking her salty tears on her lips. Fred continued to move his hands over her, now teasing and caressing her breasts giving her unhurried pleasure.

She moaned against him, needing to feel just that little more, needing to forget for just that little bit of time. Sensing this, Fred moved his hands lower, smoothing his hands up her exposed thighs and moving the fabric of her dress aside. George allowed her entrance to his mouth as her tongue desperately battled his and her driving hunger for them increased.

She cried out as Fred's fingers worked their way inside her damp knickers, and she bucked between the two men, surprising them and herself at her fast response. The twins exchanged a glance and she felt Fred shift her in his arms so that she was more reclined. George took over the kiss and worked her underwear down her legs giving them both maximum access to her throbbing core.

His fingers joined his brothers and he entered one long digit slowly. She pulled away from his mouth with a gasp and dropped her head back as a second finger joined the first. Fred continued to manipulate her tight bud causing her inner muscles to pulse around George's fingers.

He began kissing her again as they worked in tandem to bring her to a quick, thoroughly satisfying orgasm that had her thrusting into their hands and crying out loudly with pleasure. It took her several long moments to recover as their hands left her body, and she gratefully received their gentle kisses on her exposed skin.

They lay together on the couch until Hermione forced herself to open her eyes and look at her watch.

"I have to go," she sighed trying to sit up.

"You don't have to," Fred said, his voice husky with desire.

"I really do. Will you guys look after her for the afternoon?" she asked, finally managing to sit up right, righting her clothes that were more dishevelled than ever.

"Sure," George replied, leaning in to gently kiss her again. She pulled back and turned to give the same treatment to Fred whispering her thanks against his lips.

They led her back downstairs and let her out of the shop before waving a concerned goodbye. Hermione looked up at the clouds forming in the bright sky and sighed, glad she had gone to them but feeling more helpless.

She didn't bother to hurry back to the office, taking her time to calm her overwrought nerves and enjoy the cool breeze ruffling the tray wisps of hair that had escaped her hasty bun.

She was lost in thought about everything that had happened since the night before that when she entered the foyer, she failed to notice that the scene before her was uncannily similar to the one she had walked in on that morning.

"Well well well, look what the cat dragged in," a snide voice drawled, bringing Hermione's head snapping up.

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_A/N - Hi all, sorry for the angst, well not really it was necessary but I hope you enjoyed it! I just wanted to say first off thank you so much for the amazing response to this fic, it was so much more than I expected! Second have you checked out my profile page lately? There is a poll there and also links to other accounts I write for, one is Twilight and the other is a collection of works from a few authors (myself included) for Harry Potter fanfic. If you have the time go and have a peak.  
_

_Please Review!_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

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"Well well well, look what the cat dragged in," a snide voice drawled, bringing Hermione's head snapping up.

She was confronted by a scene that was eerily similar to that morning; Pansy stood between her boss and the receptionist, all three wearing malicious expressions. It was Pansy who had spoken, obviously over her crying fit and out for revenge. Hermione couldn't help but wonder what she had ever done to the other woman to deserve the kind of treatment she was sure she was about to receive.

"Is there a problem?" she asked, glancing down at her watch and seeing she had made it back within her lunch break. She began to feel her heart drop to the pit of her stomach; whatever was going on wasn't going to be good.

"In fact there is Miss Granger. As of today you are trespassing on Ministry property," Phillip Bitstock said cockily, obviously enjoying the power trip.

"What?" Hermione asked, screwing her face up in confusion; the man wasn't making sense.

"I am afraid that you are no longer suitable for this position and that as of now your contract with the Ministry has been terminated. Bernice has saved you some time by packing your things," the old bastard sneered, motioning for the Bernice, who had been practically bouncing at the side line, waiting to come forward. She proudly handed over the box full of her certificates and random nick knacks, many of them given to her by friends and family when she had first gotten the job.

"I don't understand," she finally whispered, looking down at the box in her arms, not quite believing what was happening.

"You're fired, now get out," Pansy said, smiling cheerfully. Hermione looked up at her old classmate, shocked to see the vengeful hint to her expression. She opened her mouth to say something, anything to turn the situation around, but no words would come out and she ended up looking like an overgrown goldfish.

Finally she tore her gaze away from the once stunning raven haired Slytherin and looked toward her boss; he gave her a slight smirk as if challenging her. At a loss and more than a little confused, she turned as if in a daze and walked out of the building and back into the sunshine.

For the first time in many years, Hermione's mind was blank; she was too stunned to even comprehend what had just occurred. She didn't even realize where her feet were taking her until she stood before the massive purple and yellow building, complete with its flashing lights and multi-coloured products.

Swallowing the lump in her throat she walked into the shop. Seeing Fred in the far corner helping a young mother choose a present and George at the counter cooing down at an open cardboard box that must contain the infant elf, she decided she didn't want to disturb them any more that day and quietly walked over to the stairs that led to their apartment.

The wards instantly recognized her and she was granted entry to the place she had begun to see as a sanctuary of sorts. Dumping her own cardboard box on the couch, she kicked off her shoes and walked into George's room. Climbing on top of his bed and curling into a ball, she decided not to move ever again.

That was how George found her some time later; he and Fred had closed up shop to get ready to go out to the pub for Charlie's last night in London. He entered his bedroom and found Hermione curled on her side staring unblinkingly at the opposite wall.

"Hermione?" he asked softly, stepping onto the soft shag pile rug at the foot of the bed. Hearing his brother speak Fred ventured from the kitchen to investigate. When she didn't answer he tried again, while Fred walked around to crouch down beside her head and look at her face.

"What's wrong?" he whispered. She blinked at him and sat up. Looking between the two men, she turned back to the one addressing her and opened her mouth to speak but found she couldn't form the words. Sighing, she looked away from his concerned gaze to stare at the blue bed spread. She wasn't even aware that hours had passed and night had fallen; all she could feel was the damning numbness and feelings of utter rejection.

George climbed onto the bed behind her and pulled her back into his chest, and she suddenly felt something, just a small spark of feeling, of being wanted and comforted. Still staring at Fred, she reached her hand out to him and pulled him up so his face now hovered over hers; she ran her fingers along the slight stubble of his jaw before pulling him closer to him again.

George watched, mesmerized as she kissed his brother tenderly, seeming to gain confidence as the seconds drew on until she was all but crushing him in her embrace. Whatever was wrong with her had left her feeling desperate for human contact.

Hermione found the more passionate she became the less bleak her existence seemed, and she soon had Fred beneath her on the bed until he was desperately responding back. Just when George was beginning to feel a bit like a voyeur she broke away panting from his brother and rounded on him, pulling him to her until her head lay beside Fred's on the pillow and George loomed over her.

She wasn't even aware of them stripping of her clothes as well as their own until she cried out at the skin on skin sensation. She climbed on top of Fred as George shifted off her and without any further preparation, impaled herself upon him. Fred gripped her hips as she rode him hard and fast, eyes closed as she concentrated on gaining the most out of the experience; the only time she paused was when she felt George behind her.

Looking back she found him gazing at her in question and she nodded silently before falling still on Fred. She had only taken them both a handful of times, and right now she was desperate for any and all contact. George carefully shifted so his legs were on either side of Fred's but between Hermione's, and he probed her entrance lightly. She bit her lip and closed her eyes as he gradually worked his way in and began rocking against her.

Taking his brother's lead, Fred began to rock as well until they worked up to the desperate pace she had set earlier. After several minutes of working in tandem, Hermione felt her inner muscles begin to clench, and after half a dozen hard thrusts into her jerking body she felt her orgasm wash over her in waves, triggering both men to cry out, one after the other.

* * *

She opened her eyes some time later to find that George had tipped her to his side so he could spoon around her from behind while Fred had wedged himself into her embrace. She heaved a sigh as the pleasant warmth faded and the day's events came rushing back to her. Reluctantly pulling away from the twins, she climbed over Fred to get out of the bed, waking them in the process.

"You're leaving?" George asked, propping himself on his elbows to watch her dress in the same clothes she had been wearing for two days.

"I just want to go home," she whispered sadly, refusing to look him in the eye.

"Can you at least tell us what's wrong?" Fred asked, sitting up fully and swinging his legs to the side of the bed but not getting up.

"I lost my job", she answered quietly, getting on her hands and knees to look under the bed for her shoe.

"What? But how?" George exploded, knowing that working for House-elf rights was her dream career.

"I pissed off the wrong person okay? I don't want to talk about it," she cried, sitting back on her heels to look around the room, locating the missing footwear by the door and scrambling over to it.

"Are you sure you are okay to get home? I don't want you to leave like this," Fred said, standing up as she finally got the heel buckled properly.

"No, I'm fine. You two just go out with your brothers and have a good time. I just need time to think," she explained.

"We don't have to go if you need us; you don't have to go through this alone. We know how much that job meant to you," Fred continued, approaching her now as George got out of the rumpled bed as well.

"I said I am fine. Now you both had better start getting ready, or you are going to be late," she answered, fighting the lump in her throat. She turned from their concerned gazes and walked into the living room to scoop up the both the box containing her office paraphernalia and the box with her house elf. She apparated before they had a chance to try and convince her to stay again.

Arriving at the front door to her flat she tried to juggle both boxes in one arm while she dealt with the latch, but the door suddenly swinging inwards startled her. Ron stood just as startled on the other side of the door, obviously on his way out to the pub.

"Oh, hey Mione," he said, shaking himself out of his shock and kissing her quickly on the cheek, as he noticed the boxes in her arms. "Nice elf", he smiled before apparating away. She stared at the spot he had been standing in before entering their home, finding Harry sitting on the couch staring blankly at the television.

"I thought you were going to say goodbye to Charlie," she commented in surprise, a little annoyed that she wasn't going to have the house to herself for the evening to mope around.

"Didn't feel like it," he grunted, not even looking at her. She stared at him a moment longer before turning and heading for her room. It seemed that they had both had terrible a day and neither of them seemed very keen to talk about it.

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_A/N – Did you ever find yourself wondering why Pansy is acting the way she is? Well I did, and like a cat curiosity got the better of me. Fools in Love now has a companion piece called The Other Side of the Coin, it is Pansy's side of this rather angsty tale and I hope you get the chance to check it out!_

_Please Review!_


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

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Hermione's private anguish lasted little more than an hour; a timid knock at the door broke her silence. She barely lifted her head from where she was attempting to smother herself to look at the door; she knew it would be Harry.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, already halfway to the bed, she shrugged her shoulders and felt the mattress dip at her side.

"If you want," she mumbled into her pillow.

"Bad day?" he asked, tugging the pillow from her face and shoving it under his head.

She glared at him before responding, "You could say that."

"Anything I can do to help?" he offered half heartedly, completely ignoring her glare as he stared up at the ceiling.

"Not really, I don't think even _you_ can get me my job back," she muttered bitterly.

Harry turned his head to look at her, first in disbelief and then with sympathy, "Hermione, I'm sorry."

"What's done is done; nothing is going to change it. Plus it's not you who should be sorry. It's Pansy Parkinson who caused this whole mess."

"Pansy? Merlin, I haven't seen her since Hogwarts," Harry said in surprise, watching Hermione's face screw up now.

"Me either to be honest, I mean she is featured in the Prophet occasionally, but she just turned up in my office today and from there it was all down hill," she huffed, throwing her hands up to cover her face.

"How about I get us a drink and you can tell me all about it," Harry offered, sliding off the bed in search of firewhisky.

"Only if you tell me your problems too," she scolded half heartedly; suddenly grateful she wasn't going to be on her own.

"Deal," Harry called from the other room, emerging a moment later with a bottle in hand and two glasses floating behind him, "So Pansy huh? Still a pug faced cow?"

"A pregnant pug faced cow with a liking for revenge," she muttered, downing her drink with a wince, hissing the breath out between her lips when the amber liquid burnt all the way down her throat.

"Dear gods, even in Azkaban Malfoy managed to do that," Harry breathed, blinking down at her before downing his own drink.

"I know!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up, empty glass clutched in her palm and all, "I wonder how he is going to take the news. He will probably try to use it as another plea for early parole. I can just imagine him now, marching up and down Diagon Alley pronouncing his innocence the moment he gets out. Mind you, she didn't even know she was pregnant, she just thought her house-elves were all play and less work."

"She never was the brightest potion in the classroom." He smirked, before a thoughtful expression crossed his face. "You know, that's probably why he got her knocked up in the first place, to get some kind of early parole," Harry theorised, filling her glass again.

"That's the funny thing though," she mused. "When I told her she was pregnant she started shouting at me, saying I was accusing her of infidelity. I don't think this baby _is_ Malfoy's."

"But she did make that visit to Azkaban a few weeks ago; remember it was in the papers and everything. She had to get special permission from the Minister."

"_A few weeks ago_, Harry. She was showing and her house elf has already given birth, you know that doesn't occur until after the first trimester. She is a more than 'a few weeks' along. I would say months by the look of her."

"Wow," was all the Auror had to say, sitting back against the headboard and downing his drink.

"So anyway, after I told her she was pregnant and refused to take the house-elf off her hands she exploded and ran out of my office. The baby was distraught, so I had to take her away; Fred and George agreed to look after her for a few hours." She didn't mention that there was much more that had happened at the joke shop. "When I came back from lunch she was standing there in the office with my boss and I was told to get out, just like that."

"That bitch!" Harry's eyes were wide with indignation.

"I know I had pissed off my boss a few times in the last week, but I never thought… I never saw this coming," she said shakily, flopping back on the pillows, feeling a little better having told someone.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked after a few moments of silent drinking.

"Look for another job I guess. I have enough saved to last me a few weeks, but I know any idle time will be taken up with Ginny and Mrs Weasley trying to get me to plan this wedding," she tried not to grimace at the thought.

"Too soon, huh?" Harry guessed, not missing the look.

"A little," she whispered, "I don't want to upset anyone by pushing it back again. I love Ron more than anything but it's just, well, I don't want things to change."

"Who says they have to?" he asked, frowning down at her.

"I know they will Harry, even if you don't want to admit to it happening now. Soon enough you will move out, Ron and I will start to look for a bigger place, I will fall pregnant, stop working and, before I know it, I will be wandering a lonely house, looking after babies and waiting for Ron to come home to have an interesting adult conversation."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Harry said, trying to sound optimistic, but failing miserably.

"Not bad for some," she reasoned.

"But it's not you?" he smiled, patting her shoulder before pouring them both another drink.

"No, not me. I want Ron to be happy, and that future _would_ be enough for him. I feel so selfish putting things off all because I am happy with my independent lifestyle. I want things to follow their course naturally; you know, get married when I'm ready, to start a family and to take time off work to have a baby but just not yet. I want to grow old when I am actually old," she sighed.

"I think Ron would be happier if you told him this. You don't have to do what you aren't ready to do, he will understand that."

"I know he will, but I don't want to make him unhappy," she whispered, dropping her head to rest against her best friend's stomach sadly.

"Seeing you unhappy makes him unhappy, you should know that," Harry told her gently, his fingers whispering across her hair in comfort.

"Yeah," she agreed sadly. "But enough about me, what's happened to you today?"

"I uh, asked Ginny to marry me," he frowned.

"What happened?" she asked, her eyes widening.

Harry coughed uncomfortably and took a long sip from his drink before finally confessing, "She threw up on me."

"Oh."

"Yeah, maybe I should have waited to ask her the most important question of our lives when we were both a little more sober," he speculated sadly and Hermione couldn't help it - her lips twitched for the first time all day and before she knew it she was smiling and laughing at the absurdity of it all.

Harry stared at her a moment before he too found himself laughing. It was an interesting end to an interesting day.

* * *

Hermione cracked open a wary eyelid, waking for the second time in as many days with the mother of all hangovers. Ron rolled over, his arm flopping over her waist as his brow knit together in frustration.

"Will someone shut whatever that is up?" a muffled voice said from her other side. She whipped her head around so fast she was sure to have a crick for days. Harry lay close to her side, slumped where they had fallen asleep talking the night before.

It took her another bleary moment to recognise that the noise - that didn't seem to want to stop by Hermione's sheer will power - was the baby house elf on the floor. Pulling herself from between the two heavy men, she wiggled down to the end of the bed and pushed herself off.

Her legs felt like jelly and her head felt like lead, she had trouble standing there, swaying dizzily, so she quickly decided being on the floor was best. Crawling on her hands and knees to the cardboard box by her bedside table she made quick hushing noises to no avail. It wasn't until she picked up the house elf that its squeals of torment came to an end.

"Thank bloody Merlin," Ron muttered into his pillow, which was quickly followed by Harry's answering snore.

"Sorry," she whispered loudly, already hoisting herself to her feet and unsteadily making her way toward the kitchen.

She pulled the blanket off the back of the couch, folding it over a few times before wrapping it around the elf and herself in a sling, leaving her hands free. Before she did anything today, she would need to replenish her sober up and hangover potion stores. By the smell of Ron's breath and the look of Harry, she wasn't going to be the only one worse for wear today.

Humming softly, she set about lighting the stove and placing her old pewter cauldron on to heat. It was a simple enough potion, one that she had perfected over the years, perfectly designed to be made with little thought and little time.

"Need a hand?" a husky voice whispered in her ear, moments before long arms wrapped around her middle and a pair of chapped lips caressed her cheek. She smiled and leaned back into Ron's arms, enjoying the feeling of quite comfort he offered.

"I'm nearly done, but you can sterilize a few jars for me if you like," she replied, pulling away and adding the final ingredient, watching as the whole concoction turned a brilliant shade of purple.

Ron shuffled to the other side of the kitchen, finding a whole cupboard full of old vials from potions long gone. He set about his task as they fell into familiar comfortable silence. The mood in the kitchen reminded her of older, happier times when they had first moved in together.

Away from Hogwarts, his bustling family and any work mates, Ron had matured into a rather level headed individual. Where he may have once complained to help out like this in the kitchen, now he quietly set about the task he knew would be of some benefit to him in the end. The war had made them all more humble about their existences, making them appreciate things they may once have taken for granted.

"Um, Hermione…" Ron said a few minutes later, his back still turned to her as he hunched over the sink, scrubbing away any lasting residue.

"Yes?" she asked, turning the flame off to look at him curiously.

"Fred and George told me you lost your job yesterday. I'm sorry," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture she would almost call guilt.

She stared at him for a moment before crossing the small space between them. Gripping his shoulder tightly she spun him around, "What do you have to be sorry for?" she asked, clearly seeing he was upset about something.

"I wasn't there for you; I just walked out the door and left you to deal with it. I'm sorry," his face was drawn, his eyes downcast. She couldn't stand it.

"That's very sweet of you Ron," she whispered, leaning in to kiss his cheek, "but there was nothing you could have done."

"Yeah," he said, but he sounded anything but convinced.

"If you want, we can go through the classifieds when the Prophet arrives," she cajoled, smiling when his lifted his eyes to meet hers.

"How about some of this potion and maybe a coffee first?" he said. Pulling out his wand he began levitating the jars toward the still bubbling cauldron. She smiled at him, even though he knew the task would be as boring as one of Professor Binns' old History classes, he was still willing to sit down to help.

"Sure, I'll go wake Harry up."

Still smiling she left the room, feeling better than she had in days; maybe things were looking up for her after all. Maybe losing her job wasn't the end of the world, but the start of a new era. She could only hope.

* * *

_A/N:__ After taking a rather long sabbatical from this, I have picked it back up again. As many of you will know, my time between updates was not wasted. I have completed a number of one-shots, challenge entries and my Charlie/Hermione fic - Hordes of Hungarian Horntails. I have also been working on a lot of Twilight FF, all of which you can find through the appropriate links on my profile. Much thanks to __JackMyles__ for the beta read!

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_

_Thanks for Reading!_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

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When Ron and Harry finally left for work Hermione sat back with a sigh. She was satisfied with their morning's efforts; the paper before her was littered with markings on jobs she intended to apply for – after all, who could refuse one of the heroes of the war?

A quick glance down at her house elf revealed the tiny creature was still asleep in her box, where they had managed to settle her after breakfast. She pushed back from the table quietly and went for a much needed shower, feeling far more optimistic about her day than when she had woken up earlier. Harry's determination and Ron's eager insistence that she was thoroughly employable had been a much needed boost to her ego.

The gentle spray at the perfect temperature massaged her tense muscles and relaxed her in seconds. She groaned in delight and proceeded to wash out her tangled curls, feeling more and more human as the minutes ticked by. The scent of shampoo still made her slightly aroused, a leftover from more than one romp in the shower with her favourite twins, her personal favourite encounter being just a month before, on Saint Patrick's Day.

With a heaving sigh she replayed the night over and over in her head, remembering the feel of their bodies pressed intimately against every part of her in the illegal night club. Her favourite part about being with them was that they had the ability to make her forget where they started and she ended, their presences still managing to overwhelm her even after months of being intimate.

She cut the water and groped along the wall to reach her towel, pulling it into her and stepping out of the steam and into the much cooler morning air. Shivering slightly, she hurried to dress in a red silk shirt, tucking it into a flared black skirt – she had a fabulous pair of heels to match that Ginny had encouraged her to buy and only pulled out on special occasions. Making her way into her room, she found a neat black cape and threw it over her shoulders, wanting to show off the outfit instead of hiding it beneath her usual robes.

Feeling refreshed and ready to start the day, she gripped the folder containing her resume, tucked the paper under her arm and almost walked out the door when she realised she was forgetting something.

"Now what am I going to do with you?" she whispered down at the elf when she re-entered the kitchen. The elf continued to sleep on.

"You could take her to Mum," a voice said from behind her. She jumped in fright and turned on her intruder.

"Fred! What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too; and may I say you are looking simply ravishing today my love," he teased, stepping forward and sweeping her into his arms dramatically.

"You can say it, but I don't have time to _be_ ravished; so keep your hands to yourself," she laughed, pulling away from temptation and straightening her cape.

"What is a slave to do when his Mistress doesn't want him anymore?" he sighed dramatically, flopping into one of the kitchen chairs and dropping his head to the table in mock defeat.

"I'm sure you can figure that out on your own. Or better yet, ask your mother, I am sure she has a hundred and one jobs for you to do," she suggested with a smile, leaning down to kiss the patch of freckles on his neck and rubbing his back soothingly.

"Is that your way of asking me to take our little elf to my mother?" he mumbled, turning his head to look at her with one eye open.

"You know me too well. You don't mind do you?" Hermione gave her most pleading smile, using what little charms she had acquired from spending too many years in a dorm full of boy obsessed girls. Lavender would have been proud of her.

"Not at all, that's what being a slave is _all_ about," he said, his grin returning. Without warning he jumped from his chair and swept her into his arms again, planting a firm kiss on her lips.

Hermione stood there stunned when in almost the same movement, he swept down, picked up the elf and apparated on the spot. She frowned wondering just why he had been over in the first place, but decided it could wait until another day. Whatever it had been couldn't have been too important.

Approaching the fireplace she tugged at the small pouch of floo powder pinned to the lining of her cape. Taking a fortifying breath she focussed on the flames and shouted her destination.

The Leaky Cauldron was eerily quiet at this time of day; even the regulars had yet to make an appearance; but then she supposed most people started drinking at lunch time and the Leaky's food wasn't exactly gourmet either. Morning light made an attempt to pierce the grim of the front windows that had once showed London's bustling Muggle population.

Hermione's gaze swept the room out of habit but she only found a young wizard, barely out of Hogwarts, standing behind the bar polishing glasses with a large dish rag. He smiled in greeting and Hermione returned the gesture before hurrying out the back door into the brilliant sunshine.

She tapped the correct sequence of bricks and hurried through to the cobblestone streets of Wizarding London. There were more people milling about than she had expected and a quick glance at her watched showed that it was just on morning tea time and many of the Ministry employees were enjoying the sun and refreshing break the open alley offered.

Chewing her lip for a moment she came to the realization that trying to apply for a job at the busiest time of the day probably wasn't the smartest thing to do. In her experience, if you weren't buying something then people weren't interested in you.

Stopping to grab a coffee from a near by vendor she meandered slowly down the alley until she came to the joke shop. They, like everywhere else seemed to be in the midst of the rush and for a few short moments she thought about continuing on and not bothering them. A look down at the folder tucked under her arm was a sharp reminder that she didn't really have any other pressing place to be and with that she pushed into the shop and started to look around for a familiar red head or two.

What she found instead was a long line of irritated customers waiting to be served at the empty counter and a flurry of red fur and yellow feathers near one of the back aisles followed by the sounds of several hysterical woman and the shouts of men trying to take control. However Fred and George were nowhere to be found.

Taking a deep fortifying breath Hermione did the one thing she was good at – taking control.

Pushing her way through the agitated customers she made her way to the front counter no worse for wear. Dumping her portfolio next to her coffee, she faced the register and gave a determined nod, more to herself than the red faced portly man waiting to buy a fake wand.

"I'm so sorry about the wait sir," she apologised smoothly, "how may I help you today?"

The man merely grunted and shoved his purchase across the counter. Hermione stared at it a moment, turned to look at the cash register as if it held all the answers of the world and then back to the product again. Nothing happened.

"Well, get on with it girl. Some of us actually return to work when our breaks are over," a shrewish witch who was next in line snapped.

"Right, right, sorry," she apologised again, picking up her wand and trying to remember the motions she had watched the twins go through a thousand times. Waving her wand over the product a deep blue glow followed its tip; she knew she must have been doing something right then so she took the tip of her wand and tapped the cash register. The price appeared on the little screen and she smiled to herself. This wasn't so hard after all.

"That will be seven sickles thank you sir," she smiled sweetly, holding out her hand for the proffered coins. The man payed with another grunt and pushed his way back out of the store. Hermione took a moment to drink deeply from her coffee before turning to face the next customer.

In the next fifteen minutes Hermione made her way through all the waiting customers and was feeling very proud of herself. A glance toward the back aisles showed the earlier ruckus was over and whatever had been wrong was obviously solved. She smiled when George emerged and approached her.

"Where have you been?" she asked, taking in his dishevelled appearance and slightly wonky grin.

"A kid tried to steal a canary cream and the cat his mother carries around didn't seem to agree with his thieving ways," he explained, leaning against the counter, still giving her the funny grin.

"Is he okay now?" Hermione asked, "And where is Fred? I thought some of your customers were going to start throwing hexes at me!"

"Fred went to visit you, but didn't come back," George said, his grin fading as he frowned.

"Oh, Molly must be holding him up. I'm sorry George, that's partly my fault, I asked him to take my elf to your mother," she admitted guiltily.

"I suppose I could find it in myself to forgive you – for a price," he said, that same grin returning. It was Hermione's turn to frown.

"What kind of a price?" she asked suspiciously.

"A kiss?" he said quietly, leaning over the counter to take her lips. Hermione sighed, parting her mouth to accept his tongue, which made broad sweeps of her teeth and duelled with her own tongue in the process.

Hermione bought her hands up to clutch his head to hers, falling deeper into the all consuming kiss. A rush of flames and a pointedly cleared throat caused them to break apart with a gasp moments later.

"I leave you alone for two minutes and this is what I find," Fred teased, stepping out of the fireplace against the far wall and brushing off his robes. "Sorry I missed the rush George. Mum had me up in the attic looking for Percy's baby photos for some reason."

"No problems. Hermione here managed to cope with the rush all on her own," George told his brother with pride.

"It was nothing, really," she said modestly, hiding her blush behind her coffee as Fred's face lit up.

"It's more than nothing!" Fred exclaimed, "You really helped us out. Let us repay you," he offered and Hermione choked on her sip of coffee.

"Oh no, not today. I can't let you two distract me; I have to start handing out my resumes before the lunch time rush comes around,"

"Why do that?" Fred said suddenly, looking at George rather than her.

"Yeah, you've already proven yourself capable," George told her.

"You could work for us-"

"-Save yourself the trouble." Both men looked at her expectantly, waiting for her willing acceptance.

Hermione almost said yes, almost. It would make life so much easier, to accept a job with the twins and not have to bother with endless interviews and having to explain exactly why she had left her last job. Not to mention the worry she would go through after getting the job, wondering if they had hired her based on her capabilities or her role throughout the war.

"Look guys, I'm flattered, really…" she began, feeling guilty already.

"But no?" George asked, giving her a sad smile.

"Things are already complicated enough," she sighed, dumping her empty coffee cup in the bin under the counter and picking up her portfolio, all the time refusing to meet their eyes.

"That's okay, we understand. Just remember, the offer stands," Fred offered.

"Thank you," she said, kissing first Fred and then George's cheek before leaving the store.

"Drop by when you do find a job!" George called after her and she nodded her head in response already focussed on the task at hand. Determined to find a job by the end of the day she set off with a new found confidence – if she could charm a line of angry customers then she could do anything.

* * *

_Thanks for Reading!_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

* * *

Hermione didn't return to the Twins shop that day, or the next. By the end of the week Fred and George had become so concerned about her that they decided to go to her, rather than waiting for her to come to them.

Several possibilities had occurred to them, the first being that she had started her new job straight away. This theory however was quashed by the fact that Ron and Harry had been sent on a dangerous mission for the week and Hermione had expressed how much she was looking forward to spending it with them, away from the danger of discovery. Surely her new job couldn't keep her away from them at all hours of the day.

Their second theory was confirmed the moment they popped into her gleaming white kitchen of the modest two bedroom flat she shared with Harry and Ron. Hermione hadn't found a new job and had therefore had fallen back on her sometimes obsessive tendencies, instead of dealing with the issue. If Hermione had to have one thing in her life, then it was control.

Fred frowned at the emptiness of the kitchen, everything standing by in eerie, squeaky clean, silence. George looked around for their favourite witch and spotted her house elf in it's box on the table. They had only ever seen Hermione clean like this once before, shortly after the war when it had hit her just how much had been lost – the fact that she had reverted to her old habits was cause for concern.

"I wondered if Mum bought it back," George mused, walking over with a goofy smile to pick the awkward creature up.

"Probably threw it through the floo when she realised Hermione wasn't coming back," Fred joked, imagining his red headed mother in a fit of rage at being taken advantage of.

"Hermione?" George called, walking through the kitchen to the small noises being emitted from the far end of the flat.

"In here!" he heard the cry, which echoed slightly off the tiled room she had cloistered herself in.

The twins followed the sounds of cleaning and found her on her knees, her arm elbow deep in the toilet bowl.

"When I imagined you on your knees in front of us, I never though it would be quite like this," Fred joked, tilting his head to examine her round arse, resting against her folded legs as she rocked back and forward, scrubbing the bowl within in an inch of it's life.

"I'm not in the mood Fred," she growled, not turning to look at them. Fred felt a jolt when he realized how intimately she must know them to recognise who had been speaking to her. Even their own mother had been incapable of performing such magic.

"So when will you be in the mood? When there is no skin left on your fingers and the germs run screaming at the sight of you?" George countered, trying for a mild tone, but conveying his concern nonetheless.

This stopped Hermione cold.

She sat up, resting against her heels as the scrubbing brush in her hand fell back in the bowl with a plunk. They saw her back heave as she tried to compose herself with deep breaths.

"Love, what is it?" Fred asked, stepping forward to hover close, but afraid to touch her lest she snap.

"This is all I am good for now," she whispered.

"What? Cleaning, or being on your knees?" George asked, moving with the elf to sit on the floor, his back to the wall as he watched his lover's profile, a myriad of emotions crossing her tight features before settling on misery.

"Both," she choked, flinching a little when Fred's hand came to rest on her bushy head, but accepting his touch moments later by leaning against his shins, taking in his warmth.

"You know that's not true," Fred whispered, looking to George with concern, neither man being very good at comforting, but needing to do something as she knelt before them so distraught.

"Tell that to the seventy eight people who turned me down. I'm unemployable," she breathed, as if she didn't quite believe this fact herself.

"What!"

"Since when?"

"Since Pansy Parkinson saw to it that I was blacklisted by every department and shop in Wizarding London is since when. Nobody wants me for fear of what some pureblood snob will do to them," she explained, her chin dropping to her chest as a sob wracked her small frame.

"You applied for seventy two jobs in a couple of days and all of them turned you down?" George asked, his face a mask of incredulity.

"I applied for thirty of them in person, the rest were Ministry applications. The owls nearly killed each other trying to get to me first the next day," she said miserably, turning her head to bury her tear streaked face between Fred's knees.

"Oh love…" Fred sighed, bending over her as she sobbed.

"And now I don't know what to do, everything is such a mess," she cried.

"We could go and hex Parkinson for you. A couple of canary creams in place of her usual sweets, maybe swap her morning vitamins with puking pastels, or even send her house elves on strike," George joked weakly, contemplating seriously doing just those things and more.

Hermione gave him a watery smile, "It won't help, she seems hell bent on revenge for something I didn't do."

"It will help make me feel better," Fred said, grinning at his brother as they silently plotted.

"Please, don't," Hermione sniffed, "Hasn't she suffered enough? She is carrying a Malfoy after all," she joked.

Fred chuckled as he helped her off the floor, pulling her into an all-encompassing hug. George used the wall as leverage to pull himself to his feet, holding out his hand to her and pulling her to hug him too, the elf squashed between them.

"Let us help you forget about all this for a while," he whispered in her ear, his lips brushing against her tear stained cheek. Fred joined them, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind.

"We've missed you," he said in her other ear, feeling her shiver against him.

"I'm sorry," she replied, her eyes filling with tears again.

"Don't be, just let be here for you," George said, pulling back to stare into her eyes.

"Let us love you," Fred added, letting the words hang heavily in the air.

Hermione turned to look at him, judging the sincerity in his eyes but making no comment about his phrasing. Her life was already falling apart, and right now Fred and George were some of the only things going right for her - despite the fact that their relationship was so very very wrong.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath she decided to live in the moment and stop dwelling on things that were out of control. When she opened her eyes Fred was still there, smiling at her now and all she wanted to do was kiss him.

Standing on her toes and wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled the red head down to meet her, kissing him with almost violent passion. His hands spanned her waist as he returned her ardour, gaining access to her mouth with a deep guttural groan.

They barely noticed when George left the room, so involved in the sensations of the heated kiss, wrapping around each other in a frantic effort to gain more friction. He returned moments later, empty handed.

Hermione pulled away, panting heavily and flushed with arousal. She kept one hand on the back of Fred's neck as she pulled George to her, sharing an equally heated kiss, letting out a surprised squeak when he lifted her into his arms. The trio left the cramped bathroom and stumbled across the hall, practically falling into bed as they tore at each other clothes.

Buttons flew, fabric tore and wands were left to roll forgotten to the floor as she turned back to Fred to resume their previous heated kiss. She felt George's fingers trail down her torso, his lips following their path as he spread her thighs to find her wet and ready.

"Sweet Merlin, Granger. You're going to kill us," he murmured, his tongue dipping into her navel before journeying further south. He traced the imprint on her thigh, still there from their first time together, claiming her as their property and grinned as she bucked into his touch.

She twisted and rolled her hips as her need increased, urging him to touch her, taste her. Her small skilled hands travelled down, clutching at George's hair and Fred's throbbing arousal, both men groaned.

"Please," she pleaded, as Fred's fingers tweaked her nipples and George's tongue took that first earth shattering taste of her folds. Her back arched as she gave in to the wash of sensations that felt so new yet so familiar.

Fred's mouth left hers as he left a trail of hot opened mouthed kisses down the column of her neck, making his way down to replace his fingers, his tongue working in tandem to his brother's skill touch. She became a writhing puddle of flesh and bones, tensing and relaxing, groaning and screaming until they bought her to climax in a matter of moments.

Gasping, she rolled over on top of Fred, pushing him to his back amongst the pillows. He looked up at her flushed face, her shining eyes and the almost feral expression as her body continued to blaze with an inner fire only he and George could put out. Her chest heaved as she stared down at him, her mouth opening and closing as if she wanted so say something but staying open when she sunk down over him.

Her body clutched tightly to him, her sleeve still convulsing from her previous orgasm. She didn't move at first, merely laying her head on his chest as she let the feelings consume her. She turned her head to stare at George and he knew what she wanted.

Feeling him crawl behind her, she shifted further up Fred, his cock sliding almost out of her as his brother used his fingers to prepare her. She bit her lip as pleasure merged with pain and kissed the man beneath her again. She moaned into his mouth as George pressed against her hard, entering her slowly in what was still a very new thing to her.

It wasn't often she experienced both men together, the experience always overwhelming. She loved the hours they had spent learning each others bodies and finding alternative ways to be together. But in times like this – times where she needed them to be with her fully – she gave in and lost herself to feel of being taken completely.

It was uncomfortable at first and awkward as they struggled to find a rhythm. Fred would thrust in, thus forcing George out, and vice versa. She began to feel the flames building again, the sparks of pure sensation making her dizzy as they found cleverly hidden sweet spots that had gone previously undiscovered. She began to loose a sense of herself, not being able to tell which way was up or down, or where she started and they began.

Fred was panting heavily in her ear, her hair plastering to his face and neck as it fell from its bindings. George's fingers dug into her hips as he groaned above her. They began to thrust deeper and faster into her, her body jerking wildly between them as she finally let go.

Her cries echoed through the empty house as she came, shuddering and breathless, between them. Fred followed her moments later, muffling his shouts in her hair, his fingers almost bruising her ribs where he held her to him. She collapsed against him as the George's heavy weight pressed her down as he found his own release seconds later.

For a long time they just lay there, catching their breaths, until Hermione realized she was having trouble finding hers because she couldn't move, let along breath between them. George groaned when she elbowed him in the ribs, but rolled to his side anyway, taking her with him. She rested her cheek on Fred's chest and traced circles around his freckles until they all fell asleep.

* * *

Hermione was jolted awake some time later, feeling a little bit too hot and with a crick in her neck from sleeping in the same position for too long. George stirred behind her just as the sound that had woken her up came again. That was definitely her front door slamming closed.

She sat up. Fred's arm, which had been a dead weight around her body, fell to her waist. She shook him awake as the sounds of two people crashed down the hallway toward the bedrooms.

"Harry," they heard a very feminine voice giggle, moments before the bodies crashed into her doorway.

Hermione held her breath and the twins seemed to freeze beneath her. Ginny giggled again as the incoherent murmur of Harry's deep voice was muffled by the door. It was several frozen moments later that the pair moved away from her bedroom, clearly heading for Harry's.

Hermione's body remained frozen until Fred sat up next to her, listening carefully before climbing out of the bed. He crept around the floor until he found his wand and cast a silencing charm before speaking.

"He's back early," he commented, looking a little green at the thought of his little sister's activities in the next room.

"They didn't know how long they were going for," Hermione replied, climbing out of the bed gingerly to help sort out their clothes, using her wand to repair the damage from their earlier haste.

"Wonder where Ron is," George mused, accepting his pants back and slipping them up his toned thighs.

"Probably filling out the paperwork, Harry usually goes back to help later, after he's seen Ginny" Hermione replied, used to Ron's complaining about taking on the majority of the work. Hermione knew he didn't mean it though, since Harry was more active on the field than off it.

She tried to do up her robe with shaky fingers, and was close to giving up when Fred brushed her hands aside to help.

"Come and spend a few hours with us at the shop," he said, brushing her hair from her face when he was done with the fiddly buttons.

"Learn the ropes, as they say," George added from behind her.

"I-I…" she stuttered, "what ropes?"

"You start work tomorrow," Fred told her matter-of-factly.

"No, I already said…"

"We know what you said, but you don't have a choice anymore. We need you," George replied, flicking his wand to cleanse and make the bed, checking to see if anything else was out of place in the room.

She gave them both a look that told them what she thought of their 'need'.

"Not in that way, although it would be a perk," Fred chuckled, tucking her under his arm as they prepared to leave their sister and her lover to their privacy.

"How?" she asked suspiciously, letting George wrap his arm around her too.

"You my dear have a fresh young mind we intend to exploit," George grinned, kissing her forehead as she continued to frown.

"Congratulations Granger, you are now officially a WWW research partner," Fred beamed.

Hermione didn't have a chance to reply or refuse, they were already apparating her out of the house and straight into their clutches.

* * *

_Thanks for Reading!

* * *

_

_**Authors Note:**__ I met a very wonderful lady named __**angelically-devilish**__ during my absence and together we have begun to create the child of our twisted minds – __**The Golden Duo 22**__. You can find our fics (one of which is a Twins/Hermione) through my profile, we would appreciate some love, since we update at a rate this poor account couldn't comprehend :D_


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

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Arriving for her first day on a new job in nothing but a robe - smelling of bleach and sex - was not something Hermione Granger had ever foreseen herself doing. But there she stood, in the middle of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes looking as if she had just had the life shagged out of her.

"Right this way Master of mine," Fred said happily, turning toward the storage room, which had been used by the three of them for much more than just storing things.

"Ah, Fred... aren't we forgetting something?" George asked, stopping his brother in his tracks.

"Right, uh… are we?" Fred asked, looking as eager as a little boy at Christmas.

"A shower?" Hermione suggested, tugging at a particularly gross curl that seemed plastered to her skull, a look of distaste colouring her features.

"Well, there is that," George agreed, lifting another one of her woefully sad curls before dropping it and wiping his fingers on his shirt, "But we seem to have forgotten one of our party."

"What?" Hermione asked, still picking out strands sadly, rather single-mindedly now that the twins had helped her through the worst of her stressful depression.

"Who?" Fred asked, looking around them.

"The elf, we left it in the kitchen," George said with a sigh, "I'll be right back."

Kissing Hermione's cheek softly, he aparated with a loud crack from the shop.

Fred came back over to her and lifted the matted strand of hair from her fingers with a matching look of disgust, "Maybe you were right. We'll shower first."

He led her upstairs by the hand, cheerily outlining all the jobs he and George had brainstormed for her, all the while reassuring her that she didn't have to do anything she didn't want to do. Hermione's only concern was becoming the twin's latest guinea pig, but nothing in Fred's job description was it mentioned she would be tested on, more like she would be helping with the testing.

It was still relatively early when Fred helped her out of her robe and set the shower temperature right. The store, like so many others in Diagon Alley didn't open until midday on a Sunday so they could afford a little bit more time to luxuriate in hot, steamy bathroom.

Fred hands gently urged her under the water, his chest pressed against her back as he began the slow, laborious task of washing her hair. This wasn't the first time he had performed the menial task for her, but it was the first time she had ever shared something so intimate without George there with them.

"Fred?" she said softly when he turned her around to face him, his fingers running conditioner through the dripping curls. He smiled down at her through the spray of water between them, "I was thinking…"

"Is there ever a time where you stop?" he teased, ducking his head under the shower rose for a moment before popping back out.

She grinned, despite the serious nature of her next words, "Not that I have been aware of. But seriously, what will people start to think of me working here now?"

Fred stopped rubbing shampoo into his hair, letting a trail of suds almost fall into his eyes before he caught, "They'll think we've given you a job, that's all there is to it."

"Is it though?" she asked, gnawing at her lip, the guilt she suppressed about being with Fred and George bubbling to the surface, "How long before people start to wonder just how close we are?"

Sighing, Fred rinsed the shampoo from his hair before pulling her flush against him under the rapidly cooling water, "Hermione love, Georgie and I care about you, and we would never do anything to ruin your reputation. We know what we've been doing is a risk…"

"A risk is a nice way of putting it," Hermione interrupted sadly, "It'll break Ron's heart if he ever finds out. I've been so careless."

"Then he won't find out, not by our admission anyway. We've been discreet so far, and we all know this isn't a permanent arrangement – just a bit of fun. You'll get married, become a Weasley, have loads of redheaded kids and look back with happy memories of George and I. Simple."

Hermione stared up at her lover, wanting badly to believe his words. But the truth was that things had stopped being simple months earlier. With each encounter, interaction and moment with them she was finding it harder and harder to convince herself that what they shared was meaningless sex.

Although she couldn't regret her time with Fred and George she knew that if it weren't for them then she would most likely be married and well on her way to children with their brother. Before they had made their intentions know she had been content to settle down, happy with her sweet tempered best friend who so obviously cared for her. What the twins had shown and taught her was passion, and until now she hadn't realized that it was the key ingredient missing in her relationship with Ron.

George opening the bathroom door, her house elf squirming happily in one arm, interrupted her torrid thoughts.

"Stop shagging you two, there's work to be done," he announced happily, leering playfully at Hermione as she stepped out of the shower and snatched a large fluffy towel from the long metal rail.

George left the bathroom, the sounds of him crashing about the kitchen signalling some much needed food. Fred came up behind and rested his hands on her shoulders briefly.

"Stop stressing," he whispered before kissing her neck and going to see what his brother was doing. Throwing her robe back on, she let out a deep breath and followed the brothers into their brightly lit kitchen.

Fred sat at the small table, his arms full of baby house-elf; George stood by the stove, cooking what smelled like bacon. Hermione sat down at the table too and stared at the large cardboard box in the centre that she hadn't noticed on her way in.

"Should I be worried something is going to explode on me?" she asked warily, leaning forward to try and peer in without actually touching it.

"We hope not, if anything in there exploded we would end up with a lot more than just Howlers as complaints," George laughed, moving about the kitchen with confidence, flicking his wand at the fridge for a fresh pitcher of orange juice, his attention never once wavering from the frying pan.

Hermione looked between the twins, her curiosity definitely piqued now, "Do I really want to know?"

Fred stopped bouncing the elf, which had been happily gnawing on the collar of his shirt and handing it to Hermione, standing up to drag to the box down onto his chair, "Actually, it would probably be best if you looked in the box, since this will be a major part of your job," he explained.

George approached the table with three levitated plates of bacon, eggs, sausages, grilled tomatoes and mushrooms, the glasses of orange juice not far behind, "You may have noticed Hermione," he said with a large grin on his face, "that Fred and I are not of the female persuasion."

Hermione found herself giggling as he kissed her cheek and handed her a plate, "Yes, that fact hasn't escaped my notice," she agreed.

"Well, a good thing that too," Fred replied, plucking a piece of crisp bacon from his plate before opening the box and pulling out a small pink egg, made of a material that was not quite stone and not quite plastic.

"It's rather convenient that you have come into our employ, because Fred and I here are on the cusp of a brilliant and innovative niche market," George continued to explain, tucking into his own breakfast with gusto.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, holding out her spare hand for the pink egg, marvelling at its smooth pliable texture and jumping when it began to vibrate gently in her palm.

She missed the look that passed between Fred and George but looked up and dropped the object quickly when they chorused a well rehearsed, "Brilliant."

"What is it?" she asked again, holding the elf close to her as she waited for the egg to hatch something brilliant.

"Our new idea," Fred said, moving the box to the floor and starting on his own breakfast finally, nonplussed that she seemed to be terrified by it, giving her a funny look.

"You see," George said, picking up the now motionless egg and tossing it up and down with one hand, "You're a witch."

"Yes," she agreed warily.

"And a woman," Fred continued.

"Well, the two tend to go hand in hand."

"Ah, but this is a WonderWitch product."

"It's a… you mean those products you have down stairs for the silly third years? Love potions and dream spells?" she asked, ignoring her breakfast to take the egg back from George, examining it closer when it once again began to vibrate.

"Yes, and no. We wouldn't be selling this to the third year girls," George told her.

"But…" Hermione started, frowning at the egg as she tried to place their childish girly product line with a new niche market, when it clicked, "You mean this is… this can… you're making sex toys?"

"We prefer to think of them as… pleasure objects," Fred laughed, taking in her horrified expression.

"And we're not making them anymore. You are," George said.

Hermione carefully placed the egg down on the table, watching as it switched off when she took her hand away. She turned her attention back to the twins, "Me?"

"Yup, as we said, you're a girl and we're not. Who better to understand the market?"

"You want me to make magical sex toys?" she clarified slowly, picking up her fork to spear some tomato.

"Hermione love, you're making it sound like we're asking you to film dirty movies. We're asking you to become a business partner, to help us develop something we don't fully understand," George reasoned.

"And you should know by now that all our experiments are completely confidential. We'll tell everyone you're our cashier and we are the causes of every witch in London's satisfied smile," Fred said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Hermione looked between their hopeful faces and back down to the silent egg, her mind whirring at the possibilities. It had been a long time since she had had some real research to do and a true challenge to conquer – and if inventing sex toys was what was going to make her life a little more exciting for a while, then why not?

Looking back up at Fred and George, she gave a heaving sigh and said the words they were hoping to hear, "Okay, I'll do it."

* * *

_Thanks for Reading!_

_**Authors Note:** Check out my latest addition to this series, Giving in to Temptation: Easter Snippet!  
_


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

* * *

"…And you will tell those two… two… _hooligans_, that if I ever catch wind of them selling these potions to my daughters again they will regret the day they ever stepped foot down this Alley!"

Hermione continued to stare wide eyed at the plump, purple-faced witch - who had an uncanny resemblance to Harry's Uncle Vernon - unsure if she should laugh or cry at the bizarre customer complaint.

It seemed Fred and George had forgotten that their mother wasn't the only woman who could put fear in her children.

"I'm terribly sorry to hear that you are unsatisfied with the products…" she began.

"Unsatisfied!" the woman barked, turning a whole new shade, "Mortified is more like it! Girls of seventeen should be focussing on their studies, not on romance and fantasies! I demand to speak to the owners! I demand these products be taken off the shelf! I'm reporting you all to the Ministry!" she practically screeched.

Hermione had a mind to demand that this woman leave the store, but she had an inkling that would be a very unpopular move.

"Madam, both you and I know that the legal age in this world is seventeen. I highly doubt a complaint to the Ministry would be taken seriously…"

The other woman's face turned a shade Hermione had never seen before, "How dare you! Do you have any idea who you are speaking to, young lady?"

It was at this moment that Verity, the only other employee of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, returned from her lunch break. The bell above the door twinkled as she pushed her way in backwards, handbag over her shoulder and two take away coffees clutched in her hands.

"Hey Hermione, I forgot to ask if you took any sug... Oh, Lady Constance, I didn't see you there!" Verity said, her voice gaining pitch as the situation presented itself.

Lady Constance huffed, but for the first time since she had entered the store her attention had left Hermione.

"Verity dear, those _boys_ have been after my girls again," the older woman huffed, but her tone with the shop girl was completely different, as if some of the hot wind had escaped her tightly pursed lips.

Verity handed Hermione one of the coffees, rolling her eyes while her back was turned to the old Witch and nodding subtly toward the back room, giving Hermione the escape she had been looking for.

"Won't you join me for a cup of tea, Lady Constance?" Verity offered, holding her arm out toward a small seating area the boys had put in for those recovering from an in-store prank.

"Well, I'd never say no to a good cuppa…"

Hermione didn't wait around to hear Verity defuse the situation.

Clutching her coffee to her chest, she slipped behind the counter and through the purple curtains that blocked the backroom from view. It was there she found Fred and George huddled over one of the large workbenches, studiously avoiding her glare.

"You couldn't have come out to help?" she hissed, having half a mind to grab them both by the scruff and throw them out to the old vulture.

George looked up from the stacks of parchment and gave her what she supposed was meant to be an endearing grin, "I thought you liked us in one piece?" he asked.

"Actually, we're two,' Fred injected, flicking his wand at the curtain, a wall materializing in its place.

"Two what?" George asked with a frown, turning away from her.

"Two pieces, we aren't one piece now are we? Although I suppose…"

"Okay, I get the point," Hermione interrupted, taking a long fortifying sip of her coffee as if it were something a lot stronger than a double shot of espresso.

"Don't worry about old Connie, Hermione. She comes in here once a week to threaten us for corrupting her not-so-innocent daughters, because now that they are almost out of Hogwarts and home she has nothing better to do," George explained, pointing to the chair opposite them at the workbench.

Hermione carefully checked for any concealed pranks before sitting down, "Then why do you keep selling them products?"

"Well, we do and we don't," Fred said, picking up a handful of papers that had been pushed to the side. He passed them over to her.

"Order forms?" she queried, taking note of the glittering logo, the neatly checked boxes and product listing in alphabetical order.

"Specifically designed for those who are confined within the hallowed halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Unable to be viewed by parents and teachers alike - with the help of a little concealment charm old Professor Lupin taught to us" George told her.

"Remus taught you, huh?" she mumbled, peering at the names of the students as she took note that there was indeed no addresses affixed to the order forms, "So Lady Constance's daughters are ordering your WonderWitch products by owl?"

"Yes," Fred answered.

"And no," George followed.

"Explain?" she prompted, wondering just how many more angry mothers she was going to have to deal with.

"The Ladies Charlotte and Elsie merely distribute our products. When we realized that some of our products simply weren't suitable for mail-order…" Fred began.

"…like a well timed puking pastille," George injected.

"That the young Ladies and ourselves came to an… agreement of sorts." Fred finished; taking back the order forms as if that was that.

"So basically you're telling me that you have set up shop inside Hogwarts again, and you're paying that woman's daughters with love potions and skiving snackboxes?"

The twins looked between each other, shrugged and turned back to her, "You missed the ten percent commission, but yup, that's exactly what we've been doing." George answered.

Hermione took a deep breath and another sip of her coffee, "Is that all? No other angry parents demanding answers while you two sit out back here?" she asked.

"Of course there are, but that's what we hired Verity for!"

Hermione grimaced, "Lucky Verity."

"That's enough about our scrumptious assistant, lets talk about you,' Fred diverted, reaching across the table to grip her wrists. He guided her around the workbench before tugging her down to sit on his lap facing George.

By the mischievous looks that decorated both men's faces, Hermione was afraid to ask just what they had in stall for her now.

"What about me?" she asked, adjusting on her perch when George gripped her ankles to bring her legs up onto his knees. He slipped her shoes off of her feet and began to run his thumbs over the sensitive curves.

Fred pulled her back to lean into his chest, his long arms wrapping around her torso as he answered, "How has your first day been?"

"Mm," she moaned as George found a sweet spot, "Good, Verity is incredibly patient, you were lucky to find someone who could clean up your mess so easily," she stopped to squirm into a more comfortable position again, "But, I feel a bit of a nuisance on the shop floor right now, to be honest."

"You could never be a nuisance, but you're right, your skills can be better utilised out here," George answered.

"Anything to get me away from the Lady Constance's of this world," she smiled, her head dropping back onto Fred's shoulder as she relaxed. George's talented fingers moved up to her ankles, letting her smart black robe fall to either side, exposing her legs. Her short wool skirt did nothing to hide her legs.

She relaxed into their touch with another sigh, her body giving in to their now familiar touch. Closing her eyes, she focussed on the way they moved in tandem; the unspoken communication between the brothers as they intuitively found every pressure point on her body and steadily relieved the tension of the past several weeks.

It was just as she was beginning to drift off that she received the biggest shock of her life. Her whole body jerked and her eyes shot open as the humming vibrations started at her ankle and shot straight to her core.

Looking down at George with wide eyes, she found him looking back up at her with a wicked grin and the small pink pleasure egg they had shown her the day before pressed against her ankle.

"Care to be experimented on?" Fred whispered in her ear, sending shivers up her spine. George was rubbing the egg on her leg in maddening circles, and somehow those sensations were hitting her in other much more intimate places as well.

"You mean you haven't tested it before now?" she asked, resisting the urge to pull her leg away from the red-headed man who continued to grin up at her.

"Of course we have, we've just never been privy to the action," George answered.

Hermione frowned, "I'm sorry?"

Fred's chest rumbled with laughter behind her, "We know it works, we just haven't seen it work. Some of our test subjects…"

"You mean all of our test subjects…" George interjected, still moving his hand in small circles, his movements creeping higher and higher.

"It was all, wasn't it?" Fred agreed, "Well, they never returned the products – not even with complaints – which is almost always what happens. In fact, they started requesting them in different colours and shapes, and wanted to know if they could make bulk orders. It's when we realized we had a real market for this kind of stuff."

Hermione tilted her head back enough so she could see Fred's face, "So you want to see it at work, huh?" she grinned.

"Purely for research purposes, of course," he replied seriously.

"Of course," George mimicked, following with a kiss to the inside of her calf.

Hermione heaved a mock sigh, settling into Fred's embrace and spreading her legs which had clamped shut at the thought of an untested WWW product coming anywhere near her.

"I suppose I'll let you use it on me then," she sighed dramatically.

"Wicked," the twins mimicked.

Hermione was once again taken by surprise when Fred's fingers tipped her chin back, his lips descending on hers with hunger as his fingers fumbled with the tiny buttons on her prim cardigan, his hands diving into the opening as soon as he'd succeeded. Through the layers of wool and cotton he sought bare skin and was rewarded with her healthy moan.

George's hands were smoothing up and down her legs, each time his fingers and their invention getting closer and closer to the throbbing mass of nerves nestled between her legs.

She felt Fred move around behind her for a moment, before he tapped her shoulder with his wand, her clothes disappearing instantly. His hands were everywhere, igniting her blood and making her body hum.

It was easy to let them sweep her away like this; so very easy to let them take care of her needs while she pushed all the other worries to the back of her mind. Their uncanny ability to wipe her mind and overwhelm her senses was probably what kept her coming back to them again and again.

Fred and George were her own personal escape.

"Oh god," she moaned, pulling herself from Fred's mouth when the pleasure egg crept higher and higher, finally grazing against her wet heat.

Her body bucked at the first contact, her back bowing into the man behind her as wave after wave of inescapable pleasure washed over her. She'd never felt anything like it, it was as if everything around her disappeared and all she could focus on was object between her legs.

She felt like she was losing control, her muscles contracted violently, her toes curled painfully and she had to grope around for something to dig her fingers to dig into. She didn't think she had ever had an orgasm as quick or as blindingly intense as the one she was experiencing.

It was several long, breathtaking moments before she became aware of how loud her screams were, how contorted her body was and how deep her nails had sunk into Fred's legs beneath her.

Hermione felt George slowly pull away from her still pulsing core, his lips dropping small, soothing kisses on the inside of her thighs. All the while she continued to crash down from her high with breathless gasps.

"Well, I think we can safely say that it works just fine," Fred said, his voice a delicious rumble against her back.

"Better than fine," George grinned, his lips moving higher and higher. She didn't manage to catch anything they said to her following that.

* * *

Later that evening, Hermione crashed into the flat she shared with Harry and Ron, her house-elf under her arm and a box full of experiments secretly shrunken and concealed in her robe pocket.

Ginny looked up from where she and Harry sat snuggled on the couch.

"How was your first day?" she asked, taking in Hermione's dishevelled appearance.

Hermione had a moment to think about her day, she grinned, "Wonderful."

The red-head gave her a sceptical look, "You sure they didn't try any pranks on you? You didn't hit your head?" she asked.

"Pranks?" Hermione smiled, "No, no pranks."

* * *

_Thanks for reading!

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_

_**Authors Note**__: It may have come down to writing this one sentence a day, but I refuse to abandon Fools In Love. This is one of those stories where I know exactly what is going to happen, it is just a matter of finding time away from a full time job to write it. I would like to thank every person who has reviewed or messaged me regarding the status of this fic, you've all reminded me that it is still here and that I have been neglecting it. I think what made writing this particular chapter so hard is that it is the bridge between the coming events. As many of you have mentioned, Hermione is becoming a little too complacent cheating on Ron with his brothers and she isn't a character to just throw her morals to the wind – I do intend to address the issue of her relationship with him, it's just taking much longer to get there than I originally anticipated. So, if you still have this on your alerts, I can't say thank you enough. If you've just come across this fic now, then all I can say is welcome._


	10. Chapter 10

_**Authors Note: **I am happy to tell you that the time I took away from this hasn't gone to waste. Fools in Love is now complete, and I am currently going through the editing stages of ALL the chapters. At this point, I am planning on updating a chapter every weekend, which I hope makes up for my deplorable manners in regards to this story. _

_As for what is already posted here, I would highly recommend going back and reading from the beginning. I have spent a lot of time cleaning up & bulking up the 9 chapters before this one – and plan to slowly replace the chapters on this site when I am happy with them, so whilst the story itself hasn't changed, it will be a bit meatier than before. Besides, it has been so long since I have updated I am sure you are a little like me & can only remember snippets of what happened before this update. _

_That being said, I would love some help, because it is a lot harder to edit your own work than it is to do someone else's. I am looking for a beta for just this fic… and possibly the one-shots before it, I need someone who is a little ruthless, but don't worry if you're not prompt, because neither am I!_

_Your messages of support following the announcement of my hiatus a few months ago were lovely and very much appreciated. Taking the time away from posting has given me the time to develop new habits and has taught me that there are benefits to completing things before posting them, as real life is far more demanding than the fictional life. _

_I have started blogging about my fics - including news, snippets & previews - on my Tumblr page (links found on my profile) if you're interested in what I am up to between updates. Also, if you're feeling particularly stalkerish, there is always my Twitter – because I am sure you're all interested in what I had for lunch today XD_

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Chapter 10

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Hermione woke suddenly on the Sunday morning, frowning as she fought the cotton wool feeling of sleep and encouraged her brain to function among the living again. A pair of soft, warm lips were trailing down her neck and a large, calloused hand was sliding up her torso as a familiar lanky body pressed her into the mattress.

She sighed as fingers brushed across her nipple, his thigh pressing against her core as he turned her head to kiss her mouth. He kept things slow, letting her wake up to his attentions as their lips melded with familiar passion.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she didn't protest when he nudged her onto her back, sliding into the cradle of her thighs, never breaking his hold on her lips.

"Good morning," he whispered to her, as he rubbed his erection against her dampening core, causing a shiver to run down her spine.

She smiled up at him in greeting and began to pull his head down to hers again but was interrupted by the bedroom door slamming open. This was followed by a loud gasp.

"Oh, sweet baby Pygmy Puffs. My eyes!" Ginny screeched, her hands flying to cover her face, which was now a perfect match for her hair.

"You'll have more to worry about than just your eyes if you don't close the fucking door!" Ron yelled at his sister, dropping his head onto Hermione's chest with a frustrated sigh.

The youngest Weasley did just that, slamming the door as quickly as she had opened it.

"I'm sorry!" Ginny's muffled cry came from the hallway, "but you need to get up."

Ron grinned down at Hermione, diving in to nuzzle her neck, muttering, "Like hell I do."

Hermione squealed when he nipped at her collar bone playfully, her hands smoothing down his shoulders to rest against the muscles of his lower back, flexing her fingers with pleasure.

He had just recaptured her mouth when Ginny's pleading voice sounded again, "Mum's here."

"Fuck" he swore again, scrambling off of her to fling open the bedroom door, presumably to give his sister a piece of his mind.

"Ron!" Ginny screeched, "Pants!"

"What? Oh," he said, moving his lower half behind the door.

Ginny rolled her eyes before settling them on a spot near the ceiling, "Mum is here to take Hermione wedding dress shopping. I suggest you get out of bed before she comes looking for you herself."

It was Hermione's turn to scramble, "That's today?" she asked, pulling the bedding around her, joining Ron at the door.

"Yes, she sent you an owl last week, don't you remember?" Ginny prompted, pushing away from the bedroom door to saunter back down the hallway toward the kitchen, "You have five minutes, or I'm sending Mum to come and get you up!" she called in parting.

Of course Hermione didn't remember, she hadn't been accepting any owls that week. She'd been too busy feeling sorry for herself after losing her dream job.

"I hope she doesn't expect me to come along," Ron said, moving toward the wardrobe in the corner, uncaring of his nudity.

It was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes at him, "Of course not, your job is to make it to the ceremony on time."

Grabbing her wand, she cast a spell to refresh her body before pulling a plain white bra and matching briefs from one of the drawers in the open wardrobe.

"Yeah, I guess. It's come up so quickly, hasn't it?" He said, pausing in pulling his shirt over his head to watch her clasp her bra up, bending slightly at the waist to adjust her breasts in the cups.

She caught his leering gaze as his words registered.

"Yeah, it has," she replied, turning her back on him, hoping he didn't catch the brief flicker of panic that she couldn't hide at the mention of their impending nuptials. She still hadn't come to terms with just how quickly things were progressing.

She'd been honestly hoping her cold feet would go away, that all her insecurities regarding Ron being 'the ONE' would fade as the months became weeks. Surely the fact that they were now only 6 weeks away from getting married she should be sure that he truly was the only one for her. But that insecurity hadn't gone away, in fact, that twinge in her chest at the mere mention of their wedding day was now a vice like grip around her heart.

She wondered if she wouldn't feel this way if she'd joined the Auror squad like many had expected her too, instead of going into Magical Law. If she'd continued to be around Ron everyday instead of finding them drifting apart with their careers then perhaps she wouldn't be feeling so rushed into marrying him - it would feel like a much more natural progression. Instead, this just felt like they were doing what everyone expected them to do.

She now knew that that had been one of her underlying reasons for entering into such a dangerous relationship with his brothers - they'd drifted apart. He was away all the time, he spent long hours at the office when he was in London and had long stopped inviting her out for after work drinks because she hadn't been there with he and Harry to share in those adventures, and it was obvious that she was feeling left out.

Their drifting apart hadn't been all due to their careers though. Fred and George had shown her how badly she had been craving physical attention. Ron's occasional bursts of affection and moments like this morning were become rarer as their relationship morphed around their busy lifestyles.

Hermione knew now that she was no longer content with quickies in the dark and too brief morning shags before they left to live their separate lives. It begged the question then of what exactly she was getting out of her relationship with Ron that she didn't have when they were just friends.

Everyone was moving around them, when in actual fact nothing had changed between she and Ron in a very long time. It was a rather sobering thought.

Finishing dressing, they made their way to the kitchen together to find Mrs Weasley tapping her foot impatiently on the white tiled floor.

"We're going to be late," she fussed, not bothering with morning pleasantness, just pulling out an ancient pocket watch from her crocheted purse, fiddling with the dials for a moment before pinning Ron with a meaningful look. "I've prepared enough breakfast for you and Harry to join Arthur at home. Run along now, Harry and the little elf have already left and I don't want it going cold."

Ron gave a mock salute, "Yes, Mum," he quipped before kissing the older witch on the cheek. They watched as he threw some floo powder into the low burning embers of the kitchen fireplace, before shouting out the name of the family home and swirling away in a puff of green ash.

Hermione gave a feeble wave at his retreating form, long past expecting a goodbye kiss.

"Stop right there, young lady. You're coming with us," Mrs Weasley told her daughter, who had been creeping toward the fireplace to join her brother for breakfast. "This is an important day for Hermione, and I'm sure she would value another witches opinion."

Hermione shrugged at Ginny when the younger redhead looked at her pleadingly. Dress shopping and Ginny weren't exactly what you would call an ideal match.

"Okay dears, Diagon Alley it is," the matriarch announced with an excited clap of her hands before producing her wand out of her bag and apparating away.

Ginny heaved a sigh, pulling her own wand from her back pocket, "It's going to be a long day."

Hermione couldn't have agreed more.

* * *

"I'm just not sure traditional white is going to work for a sunset ceremony," Madam Malkin was saying, as she tugged at the enormous layers of the rather extravagant ball gown dress that Mrs Weasley had picked out.

Hermione rotated on the podium in the back room of the shop, sharing a look of horror with Ginny when she caught sight of herself in one of the many mirrors that followed her around the room, commenting on every design she was forced into.

"Like a Princess!" gasped the mirror that kept hovering near her face. Hermione made a shooing motion before scowling at her reflection again.

She looked like an undercooked meringue or perhaps one of those hideous crocheted toilet roll cozy's her grandmother used to gift the family with at Christmas time. Neither image was what she aimed to look like on her wedding day.

"Perhaps we should try something in ivory then," Mrs Weasley was saying, heaving onto her feet with a groan to follow the seamstress into the back rooms.

"Hm, maybe a cream or gold..." came the distant reply as the two women emerged themselves in the latest bridal designs for the up and coming witch.

"Kill me," she squeaked at Ginny, who had jumped to her rescue the moment they were out of earshot.

Ginny sniggered, throwing a bit of the tulle up in the air as she searched for the elusive fastenings that would get Hermione out of the monstrosity of a dress, "Better you than me."

"From what I hear, it won't be that far off for you," Hermione replied with a groan of relief, feeling instantly lighter when Ginny unlatched the lower part of the corset, detaching some of the heavy skirts from the bodice.

"Who told you that?" Ginny asked, ducking her head down, but the telltale red of embarrassment could be seen no matter how much fabric she tried to hide under.

"Harry. He told me what happened. I assume you guys are okay now?"

"Oh, that," Ginny mumbled, "He asked again, I just..."

"Just, what?" Hermione prompted, using her friends shoulders for support as she stepped out of the skirts, awkwardly finding her footing beside the podium. The last thing she needed was a black eye or a bump on the head to go along with the dress.

"I don't know, I just wished he hadn't asked like he had. Now he's expecting an answer and I just feel so pressured."

"Don't you want to marry him?" Hermione asked, reaching behind her to undo the last few hooks on the heavily beaded corset, using the many angled mirrors to help.

"Of course I do. And I'm going to say yes, I just feel like it should have been more... I don't know, romantic," Ginny trailed off, busying herself with getting the heavy skirts back onto the hanger.

Slipping the silk robe back over her underwear Hermione gave her friend a meaningful look over her shoulder, "You know what Harry and Ron are like when it comes to romance, affection is something unfortunately lost on our boys."

"Yeah, I just wished his timing hadn't been so... wrong," Ginny replied.

"But you're going to say yes, right?" Hermione asked, suddenly fearful her future sister in law was going to reject her best friend because he couldn't tell the difference between infatuation and too much fire whiskey.

"Of course I'm going to say yes-"

"Yes to what, dear?" Molly asked, stepping back into the heavily curtained and overly reflective room, her arms full of dresses in varying shades of white, cream and gold.

Ginny shot Hermione a panicked look, swallowed thickly and replied faintly, "Um, to Harry."

Molly Weasley blinked once, her whole body freezing as she stared at her daughter.

"My baby is getting married?" she asked faintly, before dropping her armload to pull Ginny roughly into her arms.

The seamstresses gasp of horror at the treatment of her dresses was quickly masked at the mention of a second sale.

"Mum, please," Ginny pleaded, her voice muffled against her mothers robes, "I haven't even said yes, yet."

Hermione watched with faint amusement as Molly pulled back to beam at her youngest child, "Oh, silly details dear!" she cried, before pulling back to give her whole body a once over, "Yes, I think traditional white may work in your favour."

Ginny blinked at Hermione in my panic, her eyes clearly crying out for help, "Wha... what?" she squeaked.

"Oh yes," Mrs Weasley continued to gush, "We'd best start looking today if we're going to have a double wedding. I can't wait to tell your father!"

"Double wedding?" both Hermione and Ginny cried, but weren't given much more opportunity as the seamstress summoned her assistants from the front and the Weasley matriarch set about organizing the lives of not one bride, but two.

"A double wedding. How romantic!" sighed the mirrors as the zoomed around with glee.

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_Thanks for reading! Please review!_


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

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It was dark by the time they exited Madam Malkin's, the three witches thoroughly exhausted after going trying on what must have been every design in every colour in the store.

Mrs Weasley was still glowing from the happy news and what she deemed to be a successful days shopping. Ginny shot her mother a glare behind her back before linking arms with Hermione, who looked nearly dead on her feet.

"Will you girls be accompanying me back to the Burrow?" Molly asked over her shoulder as they approached the apparition point, fumbling in her handbag for her wand, squinting in the dark.

"Not me, I have a proposal to accept," Ginny replied, looking more than relieved to be rid of her mother for the day.

"And you, Hermione?"

Hermione stifled a yawn, "No, I think it's just a cup of tea and some toast before bed. Thank you for the offer though, Mrs Weasley."

"Well, good night then!" she said with a quick wave, twirling her wand and apparating home.

"Thank Merlin, she's gone," a voice behind them exclaimed, making Hermione and Ginny jump.

"I thought she'd never leave!" a second, very familiar, voice agreed.

Ginny huffed, her hands balling into fists as her twin brothers materialized from the shadows of the nearest building, "Fred! George! You need to stop sneaking up on people," she scolded.

"But where would the fun be in that?" Fred asked, slinging an arm around his sisters shoulder, leading her toward the apparition point.

"Now, run along home to the Chosen One, we need to steal Hermione for a few hours," George told her, slinging his arms around Hermione's shoulders and pulling her back toward the Alley.

"What for?" Ginny asked suspiciously, her eyes darting between her brothers.

"Top secret..."

"Highly classified..."

"Work related..."

"None of your business" the twins finished together.

With yet another roll of her eyes, Ginny shrugged off Fred's arm and pulled her wand out, "Fine, but she better be returned in one piece," she warned, "I'll let Ron know why you're late," she said to Hermione, sounding like she disapproved.

Fred grinned, joining his brother and slinging his arm around Hermione's waist, trapping her between them, "On our honour."

"Now, get lost," George said, blowing her a kiss.

The three of them watched Ginny disappear before turning back toward the joke shop.

"So, top secret, huh?" Hermione queried, letting herself get pulled along while stifling yet another yawn. She really was exhausted.

"Oh yes, super secret stuff," Fred answered.

"Nothing our poor, innocent Ginevra should be subjected to," George countered with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Hermione gave a rather indelicate snort, "Innocent, sure."

They ambled slowly down the nearly deserted Diagon Alley until they came to the brightly coloured, slightly gaudy joke shop.

"So, tell us, how did dress shopping with Mum go?" Fred asked as he unlocked the door with a wave of his wand, holding it open to let them in before locking it after them.

"Exhausting. You're probably going to find out soon anyway, but she overheard Ginny and I talking about Harry's botched proposal and it's now going to be a double wedding," she informed them, letting them pull her upstairs to their flat.

They chuckled at her news, "Any wonder Gin looked like she was going to strangle Mum."

She collapsed onto the couch, pulling George by her side as Fred went to stoke the fire back to life, "I don't think I'm cut out for this wedding stuff," she admitted, snuggling into the warm chest beside her, drawing what comfort she could from an embrace she was now beginning to accept she was going to have to give up soon.

She felt, rather than witnessed, the twins exchange a look over her head, "What?" she asked, struggling to sit up.

"Neither can Ron, it seems," George told her, playing with one of her thick curls.

Fred sat down on her other side, "We ran into Ron and Harry today while you were playing dress up. Seems there was an alleged Death Eater revel witnessed last night in Northern Ireland. Rather than sending a few of their team, the Auror department asked for Aurors to volunteer, even those who've just come back from assignment. Didn't want anyone to miss out on the action, just in case the reports are true."

She gave a deep sigh, "Let me guess, the boys were at the front of the queue?"

"It seems that way. Well, actually it was just Ron. Harry decided to stay behind since they only just got back from their last assignment," Fred shrugged, kicking his shoes off and propping his feet on the coffee table.

Hermione sunk back into the couch, her head flopping back onto George's chest, "He didn't even drop into the dress shop to let me know. Or owled, I mean, people still use those right? Or even floo'd called me from home or the office..." she grumbled faintly.

"He can be a bit of a git at times," George said, shifting her tighter in his arms.

They sat in companionable silence for a long time, listening to the popping of the fireplace, each lost in their own thoughts. Hermione could have very easily gone to sleep in their arms, but knew that despite Ron being away, Ginny and Harry still knew where she was.

"I should probably go," Hermione heaved a sigh, "Unless you guys really did have some top secret thing to show me?"

"Sorry, love. No secrets tonight, we just wanted you to ourselves for a bit," Fred admitted, shifting on the couch when she stood.

"I'm going to miss this," she whispered, her fatigue making her unusually emotional.

"Us too," George said, pulling one of her hands into his own, looking up at her with a sad smile, "Why don't you stay tonight?"

"I really shouldn't..." she started to protest, "Ginny will wonder where I am."

What she really wanted to do was stay there and wrap their long limbs around her, sharing their body heat as she slept the rest of the night away.

"I can fix that," Fred announced, pushing off the couch to kneel at the fireplace, throwing a handful of floo powder into the flames and before calling out his sisters name.

"What?" Ginny practically growled, her torso swimming into view as she tugged at her silk dressing gown, covering what was quite clearly lingerie underneath.

"Full moon tonight. We need Granger to come picking potions ingredients. Just wanted you to know not to wait up," Fred told her, the lies slipping off his tongue easily.

"Sure," Ginny agreed, looking over her shoulder at something in the background, "Is that all? Because I'm sort of in the middle of something," she hinted with a pointed look behind her.

"Nope, that's all. Have fun shagging Boy Wonder!" George called from his place on the couch, laughing when Ginny terminated the call with an ashy huff.

"Now you can stay," Fred told her, coming to grab her other hand, tugging her toward the bedroom. George tailed along at the end.

"I'll stay, but sooner or later we're going to have to talk about the three of us," she yawned, letting them slowly undress her, helping to unbutton their shirts before they all slipped between the cool sheets.

She was drifting off to sleep, one large calloused hand on her hip, another hand slowly gliding up and down the length of her spine when George answered, "Sleep, save your deep and meaningful for tomorrow."

She was sure she replied, but for the life of her she couldn't remember what she said to either twin before sleep claimed her.

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_Thanks for reading! Please Review!_


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

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Hermione was the first to wake the next morning, the bedroom was bathed in early morning light as she blinked and sought her bearings.

Pressed flat back against the mattress, Fred lay heavily against her left side, his head cushioned on her stomach, his hair brushing the undersides of her breast, his hand had become a scalding source of heat where it was firmly wedged between her thighs.

On her other side George had monopolized the majority of the bed, his arms and legs spread wide, her right arm trapped under his torso.

"George," she groaned, trying to wriggle her hand out from beneath him but finding it well and truly stuck. George's only response was to loll his head toward her and let out a soft snore.

Flexing her numb digits, she tried to poke him in his side while calling his name, "Five more minutes, Mum," he moaned, emitting a huff that stirred the curls around her face.

Fred gave an amused snort into her neck, "Imagine all we can do in five minutes," he murmured in her ear, wiggling his own fingers between her thighs until he came into contact with smooth folds.

She hummed with agreement, spreading her legs to give him better access. He captured her lips with a searing kiss that was all tongues and teeth, consuming in its intensity, and as arousing as the rest of his touch.

"I'm having a little trouble with my imagination so early in the morning, you might have to demonstrate," she sighed when he pulled his lips away to move down her throat, his path set on her now aching breasts.

Hermione gasped when his exploring digits coaxed her legs apart and sought her wet heat, finding her tiny nub and circling it with lazy intent. Waves of pleasure swelled from her core, radiating throughout her until she bowed back against the bed with a loud moan. Fred's erection pressed insistently against her thigh as she began to writhe against the bed, his mouth finding one straining nipple, using his lips to tug the swollen flesh away from her body before releasing it.

He knew every one of her erogenous zones, and capitalized on them as he suckled on her nipples, worshiped the side of her neck, nipped at her ear lobe, and paid particular attention to the tiny circles he drew between her now wet lips.

"So beautiful," he whispered in her ear, thrusting against her leg, "so responsive."

She shivered at his words, unable to respond as another pulse of pleasure crashed through her. She gasped loudly when he entered her with two fingers, finding her more than ready for him.

"Roll over," he requested, kissing her passionately before pushing her onto her side, her face inches from George's slumbering one. Her body, still pliable and languid with sleep, was easily manipulated by the red head behind her, as he hooked his arm behind her knee joint and slid his cock into her waiting folds.

Hermione's sigh ended on a sharp groan as Fred thrust in as far as her body could take him, his following thrusts as fast and deep as the first. She was suddenly grateful for the leverage she gained from being partially trapped beneath George, her other hand gripping the sheets between them as Fred rode her hard. She felt her body quickening under his relentless rhythm, giving herself to the sensations as her tight channel gripped and pulled him in.

Fred's panting breaths blew her sweaty curls around her face, his grunts and murmurs of encouragement spurring both of them on. Within minutes his body went rigid behind her, a low groan followed by hot spurts deep within her body signalling his orgasm.

Panting and tingling all over, Hermione opened her eyes to find George's grinning face less than an inch from hers, "Morning," she puffed, leaning forward to capture his lips.

"Good morning to you too, princess," he rumbled sleepily when she pulled back with a grin. Returning her smile, he shifted forward to kiss her again, one hand fumbling to tweak her nipples.

A deep shiver rode her body when Fred pulled out of her to flop on his back. George took advantage of her momentary distraction and lifted her by the waist, settling her down on his lower stomach, his own arousal resting between her cheeks, waiting for attention.

"We'd best take care of that before we have to go to work," she teased, sliding her body back, using her hand to guide him into her dripping folds.

It was far longer than five minutes before they got out of bed.

* * *

By late afternoon Hermione had cloistered herself in the back room, having transfigured a few empty boxes into a large workbench. She had several simmering cauldrons, a stack of parchment with rejected ideas to one side and a box of various potions ingredients to the other. So far, all she had managed to achieve was a new colour pleasure egg – gold.

She couldn't seem to stop her mind from wandering to Fred and George and their morning together. As satisfying as their romp had been, couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety for the conversation that had yet again been avoided. It was inevitable their physical relationship had to come to an end, an unspoken agreement from the beginning, but it appeared that now the time had come to cut ties, all three of them were more than a little reluctant.

She couldn't stop her mind from contemplating just why that was, and the reality that her feelings for the two older men had developed into more than just friendship - bordering on the deep affection she had been striving for years to achieve with their brother - was distressing.

She felt foolish for letting herself fall in love with them - because surely that was the only explanation for her current heartbreak at the thought of not being with them again.

Hermione couldn't get passed the revelation that she was hopelessly head over heels in love with Fred and George.

"Alright?" George asked her suddenly, breaking her from her startling thoughts as he popped his head around the door.

Mustering a smile and hiding her inner turmoil as best she could, she replied, "I'm fine. I managed to turn it into gold."

Momentarily distracted, he noticed the golden pleasure egg in her hand and grinned, "Wicked."

"I thought so," she agreed, admiring her work as the egg hummed to life in her palm.

"Hey, Fred and I have to pop down to Gringotts for a bit. Verity's minding the shop, so you can carry on experimenting. Just wanted to check if you wanted anything while we're out?" he asked, taking his eyes away from the vibrating egg after a moments hesitation. Hermione wondered if he was thinking about skipping his trip to help her see if the golden egg was a better performer than its pastel siblings.

That thought sent her mind reeling down a different path and it took her a moment to remember what he'd just asked her, "Coffee would be great," she finally replied, mentally kicking herself for not asking him to stay. Before that thought have even processed she gave the dirtier side of her brain a slap for even considering asking him when she was supposed to be putting an end to their encounters.

"Coffee it is, see you soon!" he said, already heading back into the shop.

Stretching her back, she watched him go through the glass pane she had conjured in the door, smiling when Fred turned to wave at her. She watched their retreating backs come to a stop when a customer entered the shop, registering surprise when it turned out to be Percy.

The loudest objector to anything Wheeze's related, Percy looked uncomfortable to be standing in the loud and colourful store. Curious, Hermione stepped out of the back room to approach the three men.

"… she's threatening to take this to the Minister himself," Percy was saying in a low voice, glancing behind him when the door opened again and a mother with two young boys stepped into the shop.

"She can take it to whoever she likes, Perc. We've not done anything illegal," Fred replied.

"Not illegal, no. But Hogwarts rules state…" Percy started to argue, only to be cut off again.

"At Hogwarts, rules were made to be broken. Relax, Percy," Fred cajoled, slinging an arm around his older brothers shoulder, steering him toward the door.

"I can't relax when I have family members committing offences with underage witches," Percy hissed, glancing around the shop to see if anyone was listening. When he spotted Hermione approaching his whole demeanour changed.

"Percy," she greeted with a smile, "it's good to see you."

"Likewise. I, ah, I'm sorry to hear about your job," he said, adjusting his glasses. It took Hermione a moment to realize why he was being so awkward. Percy's office at the Ministry had been one of the first to reject her application.

"Thanks, it's been a rough few weeks," she informed him, deciding not to hold it against the man himself, but the system he worked for.

"Yes, indeed. Well, best be getting back to it then. Fred, George, Hermione," Percy said with a nod in each of their directions, turning on his heel and leaving as quickly as he'd arrived.

"Well, nothing like a little awkward tension to get rid of unwanted pests," George grinned, slinging an arm across her shoulders and kissing her forehead.

"Anytime," she giggled, pushing George toward Fred, who was holding the door open to leave.

"Don't do anything we wouldn't do!" Fred cried happily to her as they finally left the shop and joined the busy crowds weaving through the alley.

Turning away, Hermione weaved her way back to her workbench, sharing a smile with Verity at the twin's foolishness. When she was finally alone in the back room, she took a deep breath to clear her mind of romantic thoughts and forced her brain to focus on work.

She poked her head under the workbench to check on her house elf, finding her to be still sound asleep. Extracting her wand from deep in her pocket, she cast a warming charm and a protection bubble around the box the elf slept, keeping her warm and safe from any unexpected exlosions or spills. With a renewed sense of purpose she returned to stir the potions she had been working on before getting interrupted.

However, no sooner had she cast the first sterilizing charm on the vials she would be using, Verity's raised voice penetrated through the door to the back room.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but that's a restricted are. Staff only, I'm afraid," she called, moments before the door to the backroom slammed open.

"Granger," a familiar voice greeted, as the heavy hood was pushed back on the black robed figure, revealing it was Pansy Parkinson who blocked her exit.

"Pansy?" Hermione asked, frowning at the other woman, who was looking at her with a twisted expression.

Pansy's response was to step further into the room, her wand now raised from her side.

Hermione felt her pulse pick up as her uneasiness grew, "Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?" the witch before her hissed.

"I'll get Fred and George," Verity suddenly said from where she remained by the door. Hermione watched her run for the front door, hoping she wouldn't be too long.

"Yes, let your twins come and rescue you. That is, after all, what those Weasley's are good for. They can't resist a damsel in distress."

"What do you want?" Hermione asked, stepping back until she felt the bench behind her, blindly groping for her wand.

Pansy stepped further into the room and closer to Hermione, the wand in her hand swinging back and forth, "I'm just curious, is all. How did bucktoothed, know-it-all Granger managed to get so many men so willing to jump when she commands it?"

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked, feeling a lump form in her throat when she didn't immediately feel her vine wood wand beneath her fingers.

Another step bought the two witches' almost nose-to-nose, "First poor Ron, who has no clue his future wife is a whore, but then again, he never really had a clue to begin with, what with you doing all his thinking for him. Then Fred and George, who I always knew liked to keep it in the family, so I suppose fucking their brothers fiancé is close enough to incest for their taste. And now Percy, who I see you've set your sights on too – somebody should really warn him before he ends up with some disease."

Hermione's jaw had dropped, her fear and anger rising to the surface at her old classmates accusations, "How dare you?" she gasped, finding her wand at that moment, silently rolling it into her palm.

"Oh I dare, Granger," she hissed in her face, her wand now poking Hermione in the ribs painfully.

Hermione saw her opportunity and threw the first hex, pushing the pregnant witch away from her, the sounds of a tumbling cauldron dimly registering in the background.

Pansy responded with screaming fury, throwing a much less defensive hex at Hermione's head, narrowly missing and hitting a large stack of boxes. Before Hermione could even voice her next curse a loud hissing noise drew both of their attentions; turning in slow motion, both women were powerless to stop what happened next.

The aftershocks of the explosion in the backroom of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes were felt all along Diagon Alley. Verity, who had only just reached Fred and George, stumbled into the twins as the ground beneath them shook, nearly pulling the three of them to the ground.

"Oh God, Hermione" she cried, spinning to look in the direction of the shop, seeing smoke rising rapidly above the buildings.

Neither Fred nor George stopped to ask their shop assistant questions, both apparating on the spot back to their store and their witch inside.

Verity dropped to her knees in the cobble stone street with a sob, fearing she'd been too late.

* * *

_Thanks for Reading! Please Review!  
_

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_**Authors Note:** I have deleted The Other Side of the Coin (for now) which was the companion piece to this fic. It's taken more editing than I care to admit to get these two storylines together and I finally had to admit that simultaneously posting them was becoming too much. So the plan is to complete Fools in Love first before giving you Pansy's side of the story. Thanks again!_


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